Code Geass: Mao of the Deliverance
by kleptographer of alternates
Summary: After his abandonment by C.C., Mao must struggle to find a way to survive in the harsh world around him, determined to find her again. But this would prove no easy task, as he would soon come to learn, and the price just might be too much to bear.
1. Weeping Mao: Day The World Went Away

**(Pointless) Disclaimer: C.C., Mao and Code Geass belong to their owners (not me). Warning! May be troubling to shallow readers used to static, one-dimensional characters! Rated T for some graphic violence, mature themes, monomania, implied sexuality, insanity, (mostly) mild profanity as well as strong doses of 'more than mind control', 'freak outs', 'a hikaru genji plan', 'hannibal lectures' and 'breaking the cutie.'  
**

**Author's Introduction: **

**Mao. That one name sends ripples through the already broken fanbase of _Code Geass. _Introduced in Stage 14, he appears cool, cunning, and delightfully unnerving, a character who can be a breath of fresh air, because he doesn't _appear _to take the grim world around too seriously, a perfect foil for the previously unchallenged Antihero protagonist, Lelouch. In fact, he was met by fans with quite a bit of enthusiasm over this fact and to this day remains among Lelouch's most popular foes, despite the fact that he only premiered in three episodes. But underneath that initial villainy, there is immediately a deep-seated mysteriousness evident about him—leading us to question, who he is? What is his true goal? Why does he do the things that he does? **

**And then in Stage 15, further details are given, but the mystery is still not fully explained. And the details are not what we expected. Where once we thought we had a raving lunatic, we find a broken child, grown into a man who is desperately in love with the one and only person who can help him. Suddenly there are those unwilling to excuse his cruelty contrasted with those deeply sympathetic to his tragic backstory. **

**This is quite a rarity—for a character to deal out cruelty and receive our sympathy. But yet it is not an example of misaimed "fandumb". In this case, it is well justified.**

**But then, just as suddenly as he was revealed, Mao is taken away in Stage 16, remaining largely misunderstood. In fact, it is not all the way until Stage 15 of _Code Geass R2_, that we are able to finally understand the true source of his conflict. But few appear to have made this deduction, tying all the facts together and realizing the truly heartbreaking truth.**

**_My _****goal with this story is to delve into these inner workings of Mao's story, exploring his troubled mind and the complex formulations behind his actions. Any comments, criticism, questions, or even encouragement are greatly appreciated.**

**A companion to _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion_  
**

* * *

_**Weeping Mao**_

**(The Day The Whole World Went Away)**_**  
**_

It was such a beautiful day! The sun beamed bright overhead, spreading its rays over the green wild. The cheerful sound of a gentle stream flowing nearby could be heard in the air, joined by a chorus of singing birds.

Mao looked proudly at something resting in the palm of his hand. All this year, he had been secretly crafting something-a ring. He had cut away stone to make a mold and smelted the ore himself, smoothing it down into shape. He had set a small gemstone into it, what kind he couldn't tell. But he had found it deep in some nearby caves and it sparkled beautifully in the light, especially after rubbing it. He had learned from one of the countless minds he had probed over the years that when a man loves a woman very, very much, he gives her a ring, binding them together forever.

For today was a very special day. It was the day of his anniversary. Or at least, that's what he and C.C., the girl who lived our here in the wild with him, called it.

The whole thing had started one day about eleven years ago, when Mao asked C.C.,

_"When is your birthday?" _

_Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she instead asked, "When is your birthday?"_

_Mao paused for a moment, deep in thought, and said finally, "I can't remember"._

_"Then perhaps it's not all that important," CC replied with a devious smile._

But Mao had a quick solution.

_"Then every year we will celebrate the anniversary of our first meeting instead," he announced boisterously._

Mao smiled at the memory. On their anniversary, they would each try to secretly make a special gift and surprise each other with it, which was quite amusing considering that both of them were expecting it. C.C. would usually stalk off to steal things that could only be found in civilization. On such occasions, she would bring him paints and brushes, canvas, easels, and other exotic presents, while Mao would work hard all day gathering flowers to make her a lovely bouquet or searching the nearby caves for precious stones, though C.C. didn't really like it when Mao spent a lot of time in the caves.

This anniversary meant that Mao was roughly around seventeen years old and C.C. at least seven hundred and seventeen years old. When he was about six, she had found him living as an urchin on the streets of China, struggling to survive. He didn't have any parents and couldn't even read or write. But C.C. had given him a special power; _Geass_, she called it. It gave him the ability to know the thoughts of anyone he focused on, even probe deep into their subconscious if he chose to. But as time went on, his Geass grew so powerful that he became unable to be around other people without constantly experiencing their thoughts. C.C., having given him this power, was the one person immune to this effect. The constant noise of so many mean voices, disgusting images and painful emotions pounding inside his head drove him miserable. So, fleeing the noisy city, they had journeyed deep into the wilderness to make a new life for themselves. Distanced from other people, C.C. had become his best friend and, as his infatuation for her grew over the years, his lover. Perhaps even the only human Mao truly knew. She was everything to him in this world.

He turned the ring over and over. He couldn't wait to place it on one of C.C.'s delicate fingers. Grinning with anticipation, he slipped it into one of the pockets he had cut into his shorts and headed out.

As Mao walked along the grass, which felt so lush and soft under his bare feet, he reflected upon his situation. He had grown up quite a bit. He was taller than C.C. now and, like her, very clever. But things were slightly…_different _now, between the two of them. He no longer looked at her with the eyes of a little boy, but those of a young man. The way he held her at night, the way he kissed her, always seeking deeper intimacy, were borne no longer from childish affection, but desire. C.C. didn't mind, of course, and Mao felt it was simply natural that his love for her should grow as he had.

Since C.C. hadn't arrived yet, he quickly set about building a fire for the two of them to enjoy later on, hurriedly gathering brush, twigs and other tinder so it would be a surprise. The fish he had caught earlier were laying nearby, cut up, seasoned with some handpicked parsley, and just waiting to be cooked.

Soon, the clever young man had a nice fire burning, contentedly eating the twigs and moss he had fed it and the spot was filled with its soft glow and warmth. Taking the fish and putting it into one of the dishes C.C. had stolen for them, he hung it over the fire to let it simmer for a while. Slowly, the air was filled with its mouthwatering scent. With nothing to do now but wait, he took out the ring to admire it and, one last time, make sure it was perfect. He smiled.

Suddenly, however, he heard a familiar voice behind him call out, "What are _you_ up to?"

He quickly stuffed the ring into his pocket and spun around, trying to distract C.C. with a big smile instead. She eyed the pocket suspiciously.

"This is a nice fire," she remarked as she laid down, feigning disinterest in whatever he was hiding.

"Happy anniversary, C.C.!" Mao announced as he took the platter, full of deliciously cooked fish and sat down behind her, gently pulling her body into his chest.

"Thank you. Happy anniversary, Mao," C.C. chirped back cheerfully.

They sat in silence for awhile, enjoying the meal and the fire and the sounds of the wild as evening crept on. They took turns feeding each other just for the fun of it as a couple of clouds appeared in the sky and Mao looked up warily. It seemed as if something was…bothering C.C.. Like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. He couldn't hear her thoughts, but living with her for so long had given him almost perfect sensitivity to the subtleties of her complex emotions.

Quite satisfied, C.C. set the platter aside and Mao proceeded to gently run his fingers through her shimmering green hair, always one of his favorite things to do, hoping it might ease whatever was troubling her. C.C. smiled dreamily, both of them lulled peacefully by the sleepy fire.

Gazing up at the emerging stars, which seemed so much brighter tonight, Mao kissed C.C.'s head softly. She looked up and smiled, her tawny eyes dazzling to behold. He put his hand on her neck and gently tilted her head farther backward, kissing her lips. It was a lingering kiss, full of contentment.

"C.C.," Mao began uncertainly, blushing. Though he was not quite sure why.

"Yes, Mao?" CC asked.

"I made you something for our anniversary," Mao explained, clearly nervous.

"I made you something too," C.C. replied. "But can I give you mine first?" she added.

Mao nodded with a smile. C.C. repositioned herself cross-legged in front of him and took out a curious thing to have in such a remote place-a digital audio player along with a large pair of head phones.

"This is from the city!" Mao mused excitedly. He had not personally been to the city, _any city_, for a while now, unable to handle the hundreds of minds he was exposed to there. C.C. took the headphones and put them over his ears, turning the volume knob slightly. "Listen," she said as she pressed the play button and put her hands over his eyes playfully.

_"Thank you Mao_,_" _played her voice, soothing and sweet as if it each word was dripping with honey.

"It's you!" Mao exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly. After a few moments, he slid the device down to his neck.

"Any time, you want to hear my voice, you can just press 'play'," C.C. explained enthusiastically. Perhaps _too_ enthusiastically.

Mao stopped, his eyes narrowing. "But...why would I listen to a recording when I have you right here?" he asked, his voice suddenly full of suspicion.

C.C. paused and bit her lip, as if she was forcing herself to continue, he thought. "Mao, the time has come to fulfill our contract," she explained solemnly.

Mao nodded. C.C. mentioned his obligation to her as part of their contract often enough that he couldn't forget about it, but she had never told him what it was all these years. "What must I do?" he asked, a seriousness in his voice that C.C. rarely heard.

His tone emboldened C.C. and she pressed forward. He always tried to please her, after all. "My wish, the condition of our pact...is to_ die_," she replied without a hint of emotion. "For my existence to end. The destiny of those gifted by Geass to succeed the one who bestowed that power upon them," she explained further. "In other words, _you must kill me_."

As predicted, lightning flashed overhead in the sky, followed by the sound of thunder.

"You...you're asking me to _**kill **_you?" Mao asked, his voice faltering, simply unable to comprehend what he was hearing. "_Why_ would you wish for that? How can you ask _me_ to do something like that? I-I could never do that..."

"Mao please," C.C. stopped him. "There is no life without death."

"I don't understand," Mao countered, his eyes going wide as he looked around fearfully. "C.C...what's going on? Why are you saying that?"

"I've lived for centuries. But _you _have so much to do," C.C. explained, putting her lips to Mao's ear as she pressed against him, her voice becoming seductive as hot breath splayed his cheek. Mao's eyes glossed over as his breaths came faster and he could feel himself stiffening in response to her. "If you just do this—you'll finally be free of your Geass! You'll be able to go anywhere without pain anymore. And then you can remake this world into whatever you want—no one will be able to stop you if you possess my power. And…" she hesitated, unsure of how to finish. "You'll have my eternal gratitude. I have been waiting until your Geass became powerful enough so that you would be able to take my place," she explained.

Mao's mouth fell open in shock. "I don't care about power, or traveling or the world even! I thought we would be together...always," he blurted out. "Y-You promised... We have to stay together!" Mao pressed. "…You love me," he pleaded finally as if it were a question, tears welling up in his eyes.

C.C. froze, involuntarily shuddering. "Mao...," she countered gently, her voice faltering once more for some reason.

"C.C., I can't—**_I won't_**—kill you! I love you! We have to be together," Mao choked, bringing her mind back to the present.

C.C. looked at the young man before her, searching for a way. But one look in his Geass-filled eyes revealed the truth. He would never do it. Rain began to fall, filling the woods with the sound.

"How disappointing," C.C. remarked as her voice fell cold, suppressing the anger rising up within her. "Then farewell, Mao," she said as she turned abruptly and began walking away, her face set like stone.

"Wha-What do you mean, 'goodbye'?" Mao asked in disbelief, going after her.

"I'm leaving you to find someone who will _fulfill _my contract," C.C. replied, her words cutting his heart like a knife.

"No!"

Mao followed close behind her, begging her to stay. After a while he tried to grab hold of her and force her back, but she merely shrugged him off each time. He kept looking at her in horror, shaking his head all the while.

"Please don't!" he cried.

They walked and walked and walked, through the pouring rain and mud. After some time, Mao began hearing voices. They were faint at first, but as he continued to follow C.C., they grew louder and louder.

"C.C., the Geass!" he called out frantically. But C.C. continued to ignore him.

Eventually they emerged from the wood out onto a busy road beyond which could be seen the lights and imposing structures of a large Chinese city.

Mao began to panic, his breathing coming rapidly as he struggled to awake from this nightmare. He clenched his teeth, trying to remain focused but they—the voices—forced their way through.

_It's so boring just waiting here. Somebody move!_

_I wish these cars would just get out of my way_

_So early..._

_MOVE!  
_

_That #!*% ! That was my turn! Doesn't he know about 'right of way'?_

_I hope my car doesn't malfunction or slip in this weather. What if I get in an accident…and killed?_

_Are we there yet?_

_Son of a #!*% ...  
_

Mao collapsed to the ground on the side of the road. It was too much, too loud. He couldn't stand it.

"C.C.!" he screamed, his voice filled with desperation.

But she ignored him and crossed the street.

He tried so hard to get up and follow her but he couldn't move, he couldn't think. His head pounded as cars drove heedlessly by. He tried to watch her. She continued walking, growing smaller and smaller as she got farther and farther away from him.

"C.C.!" he wailed again, straining to see her face. "I'll do anything! **Please! **Just don't leave me, C.C.!" He thought he saw her cast a final glance backward at him, as if to make sure of something, but then…she was gone!

The storm continued overhead, mercilessly drenching him with rain and filling the landscape with flashes of lightning and the peals of thunder.

He couldn't follow her. It was too much. So he began to crawl. Through the rain and the mud, back the way they had come. As he went, the voices began to fall away and his mind was left quiet. Eventually, he staggered back to their campsite. The fire had been quenched by rain and neglect while their used dishes lay strewn about no doubt searched by wild animals. He carefully, tenderly picked up the recorder she had left there, protected from the downpour by the shade of a large leaf. He slid the head phones on and pressed 'play'.

_Mao? Mao, are you awake? I'm sorry, Mao. See, that's the way, Mao-You can do it! Thank you, Mao_, it crooned.

"C.C.…why? Why? What did I do? I'm sorry... I...I don't understand," Mao muttered repeatedly as he finally broke down into uncontrollable sobs, his mind slipping into an utter and terrifying darkness. It felt like waves and waves of anguish were crashing against him, drowning him, the pain sweeping from his soul through his body. How could his beloved C.C. leave him? For hours he laid there in a stupor, the pain refusing to give him any reprieve, alone and without hope for comfort, as he had been living on the harsh streets of China.

Mao shivered. The cold air of night began to take its toll on his soaked form.

* * *

**Endsong:**** "Goodbye My Lover" by James Blunt**


	2. Blending Mao: The Eyes of the Tiger

**Recommended Music: "Death Image" by Taniuchi Hideki from the _DEATH NOTE Soundtrack, _followed by "A Noble Girl About Town" by Murray Gold from the _Doctor Who Series 4 Soundtrack, _followed by "Psychedelic Parade" by Makoto Yoshimori from the _Durarara! Soundtrack Vol. 2, _followed by "Toro's Farm" by Otani Kou from the _ZOIDS New Century Original Soundtrack_._  
_**

* * *

_**Blending Mao**_

**(The Eyes of the Tiger)**_**  
**_

Mao's eyes fluttered open as blinding rays of light streamed down from the branch filled skies above and birds sung the arrival of the dawn. He pressed his hands into the damp soil and pushed himself to his knees.

Mao looked down at his filthy appearance and, for a moment, struggled to remember what had happened.

_I'm leaving you..._, the memory returned, its sting forcing his head into a slump.

"What do I do now?" the young man muttered, brushing his hand through his mud-caked platinum hair wearily.

Noticing his hunger, he absently pushed his hand into a pocket he had cut in his shorts-only to feel...a small ring. His eyes went wide and his hand began to tremble as he removed the item and stared at it. It was a peculiar sensation. He felt like weeping, but no tears would flow anymore. It seemed they had all been spent last night, leaving him completely empty, which was even worse than despair.

Allowing himself to fall back into the mud, he laid there for two days, gazing up at the sky with his mouth slightly agape. He could feel pain flare through his stomach as it demanded sustenance, could feel his mouth dry like sand as it craved water, but he merely continued to lay there. "Am I going to die here...completely alone?" he intoned to no one.

Another sleepless night. A tiger passed by him, stalking up to his still form and smelling him, placing her paw on his barely rising chest. He made no protest and merely continued to lay there. Apparently disinterested, however, the tiger released him and ran off. Mao glared at the beast miserably as it departed, wishing it would just devour him and end his agony.

With the rising of the sun on the third day, Mao could stand it no longer. His body refused to allow him to dehydrate or starve any further, forcing him to his feet. Years of subsisting in the wild had taught him many useful skills and he had no trouble gathering berries and vegetables. He considered catching some fish, but he didn't feel like expending the energy. He found a fresh water crick he and C.C. had used and stooped down to drink deeply from it. His body finally quiet once more, Mao leaned back against the nearest tree and began to think aloud, as he often did. "It's...it's all _my_ fault she left though. I couldn't keep my promise. But...she wanted me to kill her? I could never do that! And now she's going to find someone else who **will **kill her? Damn this!" he raged.

A comforting song came into his mind. It was one C.C. used to sing softly to him at night to help him sleep when they lived on the streets of various cities in China.

_In this quiet night  
I'm waiting for you  
Forgiving the past__  
And dreaming of you_

_Time passes by  
And memories fade  
__But time can't erase__  
The love that we made_

_And the stars in the sky__  
That I wish upon  
__Can't bring you back to my side_

_Though your not here with me  
I dream of the day we'll meet again_

_Hold me close, so deep in your arms  
I will find you no matter where I have to go  
And dream of me for I will be there__  
Follow the stars that lead into the quiet night_

_"_I can't lose her," he muttered to himself, his face suddenly resolute. "I have to go out there." He rubbed his arms upon feeling a sudden chill, looking fearfully towards the borders of his once idyllic little world and the encroach of civilization. He swallowed hard before his eyes fell once more. "I have to do it. To save her." He felt his fist tighten as a fierce glare came into his eye. "And **whoever **tries to take it from her...I'll kill them." His stare softened as a glimmer of a smile came to his face. "Just like I killed all those others for her before."

Mao sighed. "But _how_ do I find her? I don't know her thoughts. Perhaps...I could rely on other people's thoughts. I could use my power to search for sightings of her in order to determine her movements. But...how do I manage it? I could barely move in the city the last time...it's just so loud," he mused, clenching his teeth angrily. He walked over and gathered up the pair of headphones and audio player. "How loud does this go, I wonder? What if I can use this to silence the voices? That could work!" he mused, his enthusiasm returning. "I should start with the road I lost her at. I just have to find a clue in someone's mind and go from there."

He slipped the player into the pocket in his shorts and put the headphones upon his head, turning the volume knob high and pressing the 'play' button. He listened to her words as he gathered up a few sparse belongings.

_"Mao, Mao? Are you awake? Is it a beautiful day? I'm so grateful to you..." _Mao felt his fist tighten with rising anger. "She's just...not thinking properly," he assured himself. "Something's wrong."

And so he set out, slightly renewed in his soul. He followed the long path he and C.C. had made earlier, passing the river and coming to the very road he had found impassible before. He checked the volume of his player-it was holding. It worked beautifully even, giving him something else to focus on, drowning out many of the invading voices. Determined, he finally crossed the street and entered into the enormous city of Beijing after the passing of morning.

However, he realized something and quickly covered his eyes with his hands. For some reason, Geass left a mark upon its victims-a curious phoenix sigil which had come to permanently dominate both his irises. "My Geass! I can't allow other people to see... But I can't hide my face like this forever...," he muttered, stumbling into a nearby convenience store. He turned the volume down slightly and focused his power on the clerk, who seemed to regard his ragged appearance with suspicion.

Mao probed into the man's memories, searching for information on the store's security systems. "There is only one camera at the register on a closed-circuit...no anti-theft devices...that's good," Mao whispered, using the man's knowledge to understand how the unfamiliar technology worked.

"What did you say?" the clerk demanded.

"N-nothing," Mao stammered, biting his lip. He had always spoken his thoughts aloud. Having everyone else's thoughts in his head almost forced him to in order to differentiate. But it could be problematic like this, he realized.

The young man began to search through a stand of shades, trying out a few and studying his reflection in the mirror. One worked particularly well. It was a visor fashioned from a single piece of black glass which stretched completely around both eyes. "And it looks good too!" Mao smiled, despite the circumstances, and slid the visor into his pocket. "Now to get out of here."

_That kid better not try stealing anything_, Mao heard the clerk think. _I'll sick the police on his ass fast_

Another family entered the store, several noisy children at the parents' feet, who proceeded to gleefully run around and pick up whatever caught their eye, setting them down almost as quickly to pick up the next thing. The father rubbed his face wearily and the mother flashed an embarrassed smile at the clerk, who merely scowled.

Mao hid behind one of the shelves, waiting for the little girl to make her way to him.

"Hey who are—" the girl exclaimed excitedly, but was quickly silenced by Mao placing his finger to his lip and hushing her.

"Hello, Nalani," Mao said cheerfully.

"H-How do you know my name?" the little girl asked, confused.

"Don't worry, I'm a friend. I know everything about you," Mao assured her. "But I need you to help me out. Will you?"

"What do I have to do?" Nalani asked, surprisingly suspicious for her young age.

"I think you'll enjoy it," Mao said, flashing a disarming smile. He promptly began to whisper some instructions into her ear. Soon the girl smiled broadly as well and ran off to carry them out.

"Nalani, where are you?" the mother called absently.

Nalani came running out and made her way to a large stand piled with delicately balanced candy. She glanced back toward the shelf Mao was hiding behind briefly and giggled.

"Nalani, what are you doing?" the mother inquired playfully.

"Mommy, I want some of this candy!" Nalani said as he pushed her hands roughly into the structure. The clerk's eyes widened as the entire set up came tumbling to the ground, sending packages of candy sprawling in all directions; a landslide of processed sugar.

"Nalani?" her mother exclaimed, rushing to make sure her little girl was unharmed.

"I'm fine," Nalani assured her with a giggle.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!" the clerk shouted, barging out from behind the counter.

_That little bitch! And I have to clean this shit up!_

Mao smirked. With the clerk's back now turned toward the door, he swiftly made his escape. The bell above the door chimed once.

But the clerk was busy. "How the hell am I supposed to clean all this up?"

"How dare you yell at my child," the woman retorted angrily. "It was an accident."

Meanwhile, Nalani beamed as she gathered up several packages of candy and stuffed them into her own pockets.

No one had noticed.

Outside, Mao strolled along the pavement, proud of his success. "This will hide my eyes...but these ragged clothes seem to make others suspicious of me. I need to acquire new ones...but how? I have no money. People expect a criminal to be dressed shabbily. So I need to do the opposite and dress grandly. This visor is already way too stylish for these clothes," he muttered to himself.

He continued walking for a few more streets, noting the titles of the stores as he passed. "I need to find a large one," he muttered. It seemed a man he passed _had _spotted C.C. a few days ago traveling this way. "That's a good sign."

Several storefronts continued to bring in and expel customers as the hour wore on, and Mao was becoming increasingly impatient. "I'm wasting time," he muttered. "A larger store means a tougher security, but also nicer clothes..." Unwilling to wait any longer, he abruptly turned and entered into the nearest boutique on the left. It turned out to be small, "but extremely high-priced!" Mao gasped. The business seemed to specialize in catering to those with expensive taste in cutting-edge fashion. And to prove it, there were only two or three other people mulling about the floor. "However, the clerk is busy helping that man over there," he noted. "If I can slip by without anyone paying much attention, I won't look so out of place... but the security is bound to be tough here." Sure enough, he looked up at the ceiling absently and found the cold eyes of several cameras bearing down on him. He shuddered involuntarily.

"Stay calm," he muttered, making his way over to a rack where a white leather great coat, adorned with several studded black belts and a light blue trim greeted him. Mao smiled as he ran his hand along the smooth, cool leather. "This is what I want," he said.

_Does he honestly think he could afford that?_

Mao whirled around, met by a petite young woman wearing sharp high heels and a bland scowl. She stepped back, surprised by his sudden notice of her.

"C-can I help you," she stammered.

_How did he know I was behind him like that? With those big headphones on even...  
_

"Huh? Um, no I was just looking," he answered quickly.

_Just looking, hmm? What in the world is he wearing? He looks like he was just rescued at sea... _"Well, down a couple streets, there's a charity bin giving out free clothes," she suggested, forcing a smile.

Mao looked down at his attire in shame. "How much is this coat?" he asked, ignoring her off handed remark.

"That coat?" she repeated. "It's about three hundred yuan," she replied.

Mao's mouth opened in silent protest, but then he suddenly smiled, an idea forming in his mind.

_That's right, there's no way you can afford this, urchin_.

"Thank you," Mao replied, turning to leave. "I'll be back to pick it up."

The woman looked puzzled, but shook her head and went back to attend to her other duties.

Mao strode through the doors back out onto the pavement, excited for the first time since he had left the wild. "Yes, that would be so easy to do," he muttered, turning the volume of his player back up and taking off down the street.

_"Are you having fun, Mao?"_

"C.C., I'll have to catch up with you a little bit later...after I take care of a few things," he said to no one in particular. A gleam came to his eye. It was like a game. And he _loved _games.

* * *

**Endsong: "In the City" by the Eagles**


	3. Winning Mao: Child's Play

**Recommended Music: "Russia no yujinbou" by Makoto Yoshimori from the _Durarara Original Soundtrack Vol. 1_, followed by "Devil Created" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion Original Soundtrack_, followed by "King's March" from the _Fruit's Basket Original Soundtrack_**

* * *

_**Winning Mao**_

**(Child's Play)**

As evening crept on, Mao strode into the dirty entrance of the hall, the door scraping an arc across the linoleum. His found himself in a dark room full of silhouettes, oppressed by the sickeningly sweet smell of beer and thick cigarette smoke. He stumbled to the side, bracing himself against a table for support as he lost focus against an onslaught of thoughts which assaulted him-disgusting thoughts, entertained by the greedy and vile denizens who frequented there. It was always the same story. Seeking to make some money, forget the hard times with a few drinks, or simply find someone to pour out their lust on.

_Dammit, I had that hand!_

_I just wish I could drown in this beer…_

_That chick over there makes me so hard...I really want to get her down. Maybe I can soften her up with a few drinks? _

_Man, where did the bartender go?_

_"Hey, come on. Don't be like that."  
_

_Should I fold? Should I ante? Four hundred in the pot…what do I do?_

_"Pink gin please. She wants it straight up." I'm so slick...  
_

_I wish he would stop looking down my shirt already! I have a face you know! Some guys..._

_51, 52, 53, 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59, 60... Lucky night!  
_

_Why? Why did she leave me? I'm not that bad… My life is so screwed up now…_

_"Refill!"  
_

_When I get a hold of her, I'm gonna…_

Mao clamped his hands over his ears to no effect, breathing hard. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he repeated, his hand reaching for the volume of his player. "You people are nothing but filth!" He pushed the knob hard, the soothing voice of C.C. suddenly blaring in his ears.

_"-N'T WORRY MAO, I WON'T DIE. I LIVE ON THROUGH YOU..."_

He closed his eyes and focused on the blessed sound, savoring each intricate intonation as if it were an orchestra. Letting his head fall forward slightly, he leaned against the wall and allowed his breathing to relax.

"You comin' down off something?" a homely voice asked beside him.

Mao's eyes fluttered open, concealed beneath his visor. She was a waitress, Mao deduced, suffering daily groping and sexual harassment there to pay for her daughter, Fan's, hospital bills, who had a rare type of cancer. "You could say that," he muttered.

"Can I get you somethin?" she asked cheerfully. _He sure looks pitiful... Maybe he's got a gambling problem or something. So young...  
_

Mao blinked, forgetting for a moment why he was there. "After I win, maybe," he replied.

The woman raised an eyebrow at that. "Pretty smug," she quipped. "I warn you, the players that come here are ruthless."

_And you look too young… Must be some sort of gambling problem. It would explain his shabby attire..._

"They haven't met me yet," Mao replied confidently, walking away.

_That _earned him a smile as the waitress shrugged and, shaking her head, walked off to attend to her other customers.

Making his way in between the crowded tables and booths, he looked around the room, probing various minds. "I need an open game and opponents with plenty of money to waste," he muttered, his voice drowned by the sound of the stereo blasting through the room like a wave. A new song was being played now, and it sounded foreign. He paused to listen to the words, practicing the English C.C. had taught him.

_Please allow me to introduce myself  
I'm a man of wealth and taste  
I've been around for a long, long year__  
Stole many a man's soul and faith_

Suddenly, his mind found exactly what he was looking for, and he stalked off to a table at which sat six players, together with the dealer. Pulling up a chair, he pulled up a chair and stared ahead, his eyes concealed all the while beneath that dark visor.

"Can I help you," a large man with thick, fat fingers demanded. The others merely stared at Mao, their thoughts plain and simple.

_Who the hell is this kid?_

The dealer stopped shuffling. _Is he lost maybe?_

"Go ahead and deal me in," Mao spoke up, ending the silence. "I'll…_ante_," he added, making sure to pronounce the new word properly.

_Pleased to meet you  
Hope you guess my name,_ the stereo blared.

The large man looked at the six and back at the dealer, a smile curling at his lips.

"I don't see a problem," the dealer ventured, always eager. "I mean, if it's alright with you that is, Bingwen."

The large man, Bingwen, annoyed by the mention of his name, turned his attention back to Mao. "You may not know this, punk, but around here, you gotta have somethin' to bet with," he said, rubbing his fingers together for effect. "And, uh, from the looks of you, I don't think so. We're out of your league."

Four or so others seated at the table laughed. Loudly. Obnoxiously, in fact.

"Sycophants," Mao muttered to no one in particular.

"What was that?" one of the other men asked.

Mao shook his head, temporarily set back. It was true, he didn't have anything to bet with. "Without something to start off with, I can't make any money," he muttered.

Bingwen looked Mao over, his eyes darting back to his friends warily. He was getting impatient.

Mao slid his hand into his pocket and suddenly felt cool stone. Realization dawned in his eyes as he pulled out a small ring. The ring he had fashioned for C.C.'s hand. The gemstone he had set still shone beautifully in the dim light. Mao's hand began to shake, however, indecision plaguing his fragile mind. "There's no way, I'll lose…so I don't have to worry," he whispered, almost apologetically. "What about this?" he asked finally, sliding the ring into the center of the table, turning his attention back to Bingwen.

The large man eyed the trinket skeptically, picking it up to examine it. "The stone is crude…but the stone looks valuable…though rough," he mused, setting it back down. "Tell you what kid, I'll give you a chance. Just don't start crying when you lose your little keepsake," he added with an arrogant smirk.

_It looks like this ring's really important to him… If he's betting with it, he must be pretty desperate. I'll enjoy taking it from him then. Teach him he's too young to be hanging around here. That's right, go home to your mommy kid.  
_

Mao's eyes narrowed beneath his visor as he flashed his own smile. "Don't start crying when you lose your wallet," he boasted.

Bingwen slammed his fist down in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, overcome by the seeming ridiculousness of the quip. "You got some spunk, kid, I'll give you that," he muttered, drying his eyes. "But switch with Fu here," he added. motioning his finger. Mao nodded, taking the man's seat, left of the dealer, as Fu took his.

_Just for that cocky attitude of yours, I'll make you decide the course of the bets. _Turning toward the dealer, however, he snarled, "Well, deal already!"

"Right, right," the dealer replied timidly, shuffling the cards several times and passing them out.

Mao picked up his hand, eagerly, examining his cards. He had no clue what they were for, of course, but a simple examination of the dealer's mind revealed their purpose and possible uses. He divided them according to their ranks. It seemed he had a start on a 'three of a kind', as long as the dealer laid another jack on the table.

Reading their minds, he evaluated their hands and compared them to his own. Since the dealer didn't know which cards were coming next, knowing his thoughts afforded no help. However, Mao knew that if he laid down a jack, he could beat all five other hands. "So it comes down to luck," Mao muttered.

The man seated beside Bingwen, Paul by name, apparently a Britannian who had come to China, spoke up. "You shouldn't talk so much. Don't wanna give anything away."

Mao bit his lip, attempting to force himself to keep his thoughts to himself. Starting off the bets, Mao slid the ring forward, confident of his plan. Then they went around the room, and each threw in some money to back up their hands, although one folded due to the poor quality of his. The dealer then laid down three cards, and, by luck, a jack was the second in line.

All except Bingwen and Mao folded then, leaving the two regarding each other with slight amusement. The pot was mediocre and Bingwen's hand couldn't beat Mao's. A smile curled at the large man's mouth as he nodded to the dealer and laid his two cards down; combining it with the three to form the best hand he could muster. Three tens.

Mao allowed himself a smile as he laid his own cards down at the same time, combining it with the three to form a triplet of jacks.

Bingwen, looked at the hands that had been played, his face expressionless. The dealer nodded to Mao and slid the pot toward him, thirty or so yuan and Mao's ring. Now armed with enough to play a few more rounds, he turned his cards in, waiting for the dealer to reshuffle.

_But what's confusing you  
Is just the nature of my game_

Another round was played. This time, Mao bet five as did everyone else.

"Hmph, this is poor man's cards," Fu sneered. _A game of cards is only as good as its poorest player_

_Cause I'm in need of some restraint  
So if you meet me  
Have some courtesy  
__Have some sympathy and some taste_

The dealer laid down three cards and another round of betting ensued. Each added about five, their confidence in their hands wavering, and Mao did likewise, awaiting to see if the next card would complete his hand. The dealer laid down another card, giving Mao a full house which could beat four out of six of the hands. However, after probing their thoughts, he knew only a bit more pressure would cause the others to fold. He bet fifteen, smiling as he listened to the dealer's thoughts.

_Use all your well-learned politesse  
Or I'll lay your soul to waste, oh yeah_

_Now everyone else is forced to match his bet or fold, increasing the pot from fifteen to two hundred twenty-five, if everyone plays. But with so few cards it's a blind bet…what's he thinking?_ The dealer dealt another card. Three people folded and Mao bet his last five huan.

Paul, Bingwen and Fu each threw in five more. It was a showdown and with no final cards to play, they laid their hands down, as did Mao. His full house won again and he happily gathered up his new winnings.

_Ooo, who_

_Ooo, who_

_Ooo, who, who_

_Ooo, who, who_

_Oh, yeah_, the music played on, alongside the electric guitars, congas and maracas swirling together in a dizzying psychedelic samba.

The dealer looked at Mao with growing respect. _This guy actually knows how to play._

The games continued, with many more hands won by Mao. Every now and then Bingwen would look at him suspiciously, clearly incredulous.

"Nice hand, huh? Got me again," Paul remarked a bit louder than he should've, the liquor lightening his mood. "It's almost like you can read minds, you know."

"Only yours," Bingwen quipped contemptuously.

Ignoring the slight, Paul gestured to Mao, who continued to stare ahead.

"Look here, you have been taking my money all night and you won't even look at me?" he demanded, straining his bleary eyes to see past the dark visor.

"Leave him alone. He's not right in the head," Fu warned in a hushed tone, having observed the young man mutter to himself for the duration of the game.

Much later, the dealer passed out the final hand of the night. Mao threw in some money and the other six did likewise. The dealer put down a few cards, Mao deduced that they appeared to be in Fu's favor, although he was obviously trying not to give anything away.

Mao put in a much larger amount of money and sat back in his chair, waiting. After they had matched the amount, Paul looked expectantly at Fu, who threw in some more money himself. His mind was torn, despite what his proud demeanor conveyed. The dealer laid down another card, which was also good for Fu's hand. As he looked at his cards thoughtfully, Mao tossed in another, larger stack of bills.

"Eighteen thousand in the pot," the dealer announced nervously.

Fu and Mao stared at each other, their faces expressionless except for a soft smile curling at Mao's lips and a slight quiver on Fu's.

Paul shook his head and looked at Fu. "He doesn't have it," he asserted.

Bingwen rolled his eyes. "Shut up," he barked, irritated.

Fu looked at Mao again and then started to toss in more money to equal Mao's substantial bet.

"Are you sure you want to waste that?" Mao baited.

Fu looked up at him, indecision gripping him as sweat dabbed his forehead. A smile curled at Mao's lip as he acted like he was preparing himself to throw in more money.

Finally unwilling to risk losing anymore, Fu withdrew his hand and folded. Victorious, Mao reached forward and collected his winnings, stuffing them into his pocket alongside the ring.

Paul shook his head again, looking at Fu. "He didn't have it. No way."

Mao briefly nodded his head in acknowledgment to Fu, who averted his gaze, and stood to his feet.

Making his way back out into the cool night air, eager to escape the noise and stench. He felt grateful for the visor to shield his eyes from the bright city lights. "Well, I did it," he announced to no one in particular. "My power is unbeatable. I can definitely use this to fund my way for a while. And if I run out, I can just go somewhere and make more."

_"Great job, Mao! You can do it!_", the recording played encouragingly.

Mao sighed. "I didn't expect that to take all day though…I have to catch up with C.C.… But first," he muttered, retracing his steps back to the expensive boutique. It was still open, and Mao strode back inside, making his way to the coat that had attracted his attention earlier. "I'll need some clothes to go with it…"

"—Can I hel—oh, it's _you_," the clerk said, her face reddening, as she came around the corner. "I didn't expect you would be coming back," she admitted.

"I got what I needed and now I'm back to buy this coat—along with a few other things," Mao explained, taking it from the rack and trying it on in front of the mirror. "It looks great on me," he said, and the clerk had to agree.

Searching through the other racks, he finally decided on a combination that both suited his tastes and accomplished his main objective for the task. Combining a long sleeved mauve shirt with a pair of sleek black pants and stylish brown suede boots with a pair of matching long silk gloves, he added the coat and regarded his new appearance in the mirror. "Excellent," he beamed. "She'll love it."

The clerk nodded, shifting on her feet uncomfortably. _Can he really pay for this? He came in looking like an urchin…where'd he get the money? If he's pulling a prank on me, I'll box his ears.  
_

"And don't worry, I assure you I can pay for it," Mao answered.

"Oh, I'm not worried," she lied, her face reddening.

Walking up to the register, he pulled out a large stack of bills and set them on the counter. She eyed them suspiciously and began counting.

_Could they be counterfeit?_

Mao was getting fed up with her unceasing suspicion and so explained cheerfully, "It was my lucky day at cards."

"Wow," she replied, finished with her count. "Alright, that's it," she added, satisfied.

"Thank you for your time," Mao replied as he turned to leave.

"Uh, what should I do with these?" she asked, holding up his old orange sweater and ragged pair of shorts.

Mao stared at them for a moment, transfixed. He had worn those same clothes for years while living with C.C., through the rain, snow, mud, sweat, sperm and blood. They were all he knew. Dispelling such thoughts, he replied, "Just throw them away, if you would," carefully checking his new pocket to make sure the ring was there.

And without another word, Mao left, a new man. He strolled along the streets, amused by how different peoples' thoughts had become toward him, in not but the span of a day. No longer was he regarded with suspicion, no longer was he regarded with contempt. And more than that, he had made quite a bit of easy money to cover the expenses he might incur during his search.

Straining his mind open to the area, he probed deep for images and knowledge of C.C., and then shut it almost as quickly, gasping and reaching for the volume knob of his player. Several people had seen her walking, some had forgotten. Others remembered the striking green hair. Taken together, it seemed she started moving east through Beijing, toward the coast.

"Well that's a start," Mao mused. "She'll definitely be on foot. I know my C.C.." He took off running.

* * *

**Endsong:**** "The Beautiful People" by Marylin Manson**

**Author's Note: Lyrics from ****"Sympathy For the Devil"**** by the Rolling Stones.**


	4. Breaking Mao

**Author's Notes: In the flashback where we see Mao and C.C. entwined, his pants already look far too short for him, unless they were shorts, at which point they look too long. If your homeless like Mao and C.C. were, I don't expect they'd have many opportunities to get new clothes, although I suppose he or she could steal them, but desperation would dominate. But now Mao is in ways developing his own style and transitioning from one period of his story to another (Also, those are the only two outfits we see Mao wearing, so I felt like I kinda had to go with them).**

**Recommended Music: "The Specter of Separation" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the _Mobile Suit: Gundam Seed Soundtrack Vol. 4_, followed by "Moderato" by S.E.N.S. Project from the _xxxHolic Soundtrack_, followed by "The First Signature" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion Soundtrack._**

* * *

_**Breaking Mao**_

The wind blew softly today, the sky helping a few clouds make their way slowly across the world. Mao sat on the ground of a large empty park far below, his knees up to his chin, swaying back and forth slightly and feeling quite frustrated with himself. He held his face in his gloved hands, his headphones pouring out words of comfort from his beloved. But they were merely words falling on deaf ears for now.

For the young man had been wandering around for several days, desperately searching for C.C., opening his mind to the world, probing deep for images, memories, or thoughts of the emerald haired beauty. He had been through several streets, traveling increasingly eastward through the enormous city, but with limited success. And each time he did so, he felt like his head would burst. Living in the wild, blissful and quiet, for so long had caused him to forget just how painful his Geass could be.

He was discouraged, his initial exuberance from feeling like he was a knight getting to rescue his beloved ebbing away as he realized just how large and harsh the world truly was.

_"Remember what I told you about snow, Mao?_," the recorder played. "_Remember, it's white because it's forgotten what color it is… Never forget what color you are, Mao. It's a beautiful color."_

Mao slumped forward further. "C.C., it's just not the same…just not the same without you really here," he whined, exasperated. "I need to think…think of how I can find her."

Looking up, he surveyed his surroundings once more, trying to think. "In cities like this, it seems people go missing all the time…the ones who are asked to look for them are the police. Or, if they're soldiers, the military. What if I…use my Geass to learn some secret that the Federation would be willing to bargain for and force them to let me use their resources to look for her?" he mused, reasoning it out as best he could. "It could be a lot faster…but what if they _do_ find her?"

Mao suddenly bolted upright, feeling worried. "But what if they hurt her or do something terrible to her?" he muttered nervously. "This country is filled with despicable people who do all kinds of terrible things to each other all the time. There's just no way I can take that kind of chance. I'm on my own."

_"You can do it!"_

Mao whirled his head around, hearing that sweet, nostalgic voice, as if expecting someone to be very close by, hoping to catch at least one glimpse of her. Her smile. Her eyes. Her face. But…he saw nothing. "Was it all just a fragment of my desires?" he breathed, eyeing the recorder suspiciously.

Falling to his side, he removed his coat and pulled it around him, curling up to use the taught leather to remind his body of what it felt like to be held. Closing his eyes, songs which C.C. used to sing to him during their time on the streets came to mind. Back then his fondest memories were of sleeping together in heaps of straw and old newspaper, clinging to each other for warmth, and playing with the stray animals. Exhausted and lonely, he indulged the memory.

_I was so happy when you smiled  
Your smile breaks through the clouds of grey  
Far from the sunny days that lie in sleep__  
Awaiting the patience for the spring when the flowers will bloom anew again  
Knowing there's more beyond the pain of today  
_

_All those scars of yesterday remain  
But you can go on living as much as your heart believes  
You can't be born again, although you can change__  
Let's stay together always_

A tear spilled down his cheek as he drifted off to sleep. A few hours went by, but suddenly Mao's eyes fluttered open. He could hear…a voice!

_Who is this guy? What is he doing here?_

Realizing instantly what this meant, he braced himself just in time to receive a firm kick in the side.

"Hey! You can't sleep here," the officer warned, disgust clear in his voice. "This place closed hours ago."

_Honestly, when are the bureaucrats gonna clean up the filth around here? Don't we pay enough taxes?_

Mao sat up groggily, slipping his coat back on and rubbing his eyes, careful to conceal them beneath his hand whilst he removed the visor. "Alright, I get it," Mao replied, checking the buckles on his boots and standing upright. Without another word, he turned and left the officer, feeling his callous eyes boring into his back the whole way out.

_Yeah, that's right, I'm watching you…_

"Maybe I can come back later when it reopens to think some more," Mao muttered to himself. At least it was a long walk, allowing him to enjoy the silence for a bit longer, except the suspicious thoughts of the lone officer carefully following him, of course.

_Is he talking to himself? What a freak!_

Mao scowled, but continued walking, turning up his player even louder. He soon realized he was hungry, however, and, making his way back onto the stark streets, knee-deep in windswept plastic and paper carnage, he searched for something to eat. He was to be frustrated, however, as he surveyed the stands, piled high with wretched toxic meat, rancid cheese and carcinogenic vegetables. Mao blanched, disgusted by the prospect of consuming something so…unnatural. After all, he had enjoyed hand-picked or homegrown fresh fruits and vegetables, hunted fish and scavenged nuts in the country for years. But to forage for something like that he would have to travel all the way back out of the city, wasting valuable time. "I'll just have to bear up under it," he muttered dryly. "I have to be strong for her." He came upon one claiming to sell apples and checked the price; it was paltry, so he bought three.

_What an early customer! And I haven't even finished setting up shop yet… I hope it's a sign of a good day today._

Walking away, he sunk his teeth into the shiny fruit, drawing away large, chewy swathes. "This isn't bad," he muttered, its sweet juice running down his chin.

_"Oh Mao, how silly of—"_

Mao froze, so startled he dropped the apple he was eating, which fell to the ground smashed. "C.C., where did you go?" he asked, taking out his player frantically. He turned up the volume over and over again, pressing every button he could find on its surface. "What happened?" He found a groove along the back and slid it out, revealing a compartment containing two batteries. Mao's eyes went wide. "The batteries…they must have run out!"

Trying not to panic, he searched his surroundings for a store, any store, where he could replace them. His mind began to reel as he lost focus, however, the thoughts of those mulling about ringing in his mind. The world suddenly became very, very loud. After all, this was Beijing, boasting an overall population of at least twenty-two million, with around three thousand four hundred per square mile!

_I hope it doesn't rain today_

_I don't want to go to work. That place sucks_

_What a dump_

_Damn, I wish they'd stop selling crap like this_

_I'm gonna kill her. Yeah, that's it, today's the day. She'll wish, she'll wish she never crossed me._

_The news said Britannia was expanding in the Mideast, but they can't even control terrorism in Area 11, what the hell?_

_If I run like this everyday, I'm supposed to lose weight_

Mao ran hard, finding a store up ahead. "There it is! I can make it!" he said through grit teeth.

_Why is that guy running?_

_Is he late for an appointment, maybe?_

_Where are the police?_

Coming to the door, Mao slammed into it, hoping it had a crash bar. It didn't, but he felt something break and the door swung open anyway.

_What the hell man?_

He threw his eyes up, searching the aisles. "Should be right over there!" he exclaimed, running over to a spinning shelf filled with several kinds of electric batteries.

_What is wrong with him?_

_These prices are too expensive, I make little enough as it is_

_Should I get the red or the blue?_

_Oh, she'll love this!_

_I'm hungry, mom_

_God, this girl never shuts up…_

_Why is the line so long, dammit?_

Mao clamped his hands around his head, pulling his hair so hard he thought it might rip out. Sweat poured down his face and his breathing became laboured.

_He doesn't look good_

_Maybe something's wrong with him_

_Should somebody help him?_

"BE QUIET!" Mao screamed, drawing everyone's attention. He reached out his hand for the batteries but faltered and instead knocked down the entire shelf, sending packages of batteries sprawling everywhere.

_What an idiot! Today of all days…I have to clean this shit up you know!_

"Hey, what's wrong with you, huh?" a man shouted angrily.

_Oh my…_

Mao collapsed to the floor, unable to bear up under the strain any longer. A thin trail of blood trickled from his head as it cracked against the cold tile. His lean chest heaved as his heart raced and sounds began to muffle in his ears.

_Oh my god!_

_Something's wrong with him!_

He could pick out dim shapes rushing toward him, shaking him roughly. He could feel the batteries against the tips of his fingers, but just couldn't find the strength.

_Sir, are you alright?_

"Sir, are you alright?" somebody asked.

_Somebody call the medics!_

"Somebody call the medics!" a woman shouted out frantically.

Darkness overtook his eyes amidst the blasting echoes of so many thoughts and he felt like he was dying.

* * *

**Endsong: "Drenched In Fear" by In Flames**


	5. Spitting Mao

_**Spitting Mao**_

Mao bolted upright with a start, his breathing coming in laboured gasps as he struggled to recall just what had happened. Looking down at himself, he noticed he was wearing a simple white gown and, more than that, his wrists and legs were bound tightly with leather straps to a bed of some kind.

His eyes darted back and forth across the room. It was small, with a single steel door and a thick pane of glass against the far wall, though he could discern nothing clearly beyond it.

Several sensors were attached to his body, sending vital signals to a few monitors positioned near the bed. His heart rate was stabilizing apparently.

_It hurts so much…_

_My family can't afford this_

_The doctor says I'll be better in a day or two_

_I should get some rest_

_"So who is he anyway?"_

_This food is terrible_

Mao's eyes widened. He was trapped, unable to move. He searched his surroundings once more, desperate for something, _anything_, to focus on. "The doctor!" he exclaimed, as he discerned the thoughts of one Doctor Quentin. Apparently, he was engaged in conversation with a Doctor Wang…wearily observing him from just behind the pane of double-sided glass!

_"He didn't have any identification on him_... _All we found was around eighteen thousand renminbi, a ring, and an audio player with a pair of headphones."_

_"A ring, eh? Stolen?"_

_"I don't think so, it looks more like an heirloom. Appears to be raw ore of malachite. It's fairly large. Although, I can't say as far as the eighteen thousand goes."_

_"So he just collapsed" _

_"Witnesses said he burst into a convenience store, made a scene, disturbed several customers and then collapsed."_

Realization dawned in Mao's eyes as he recalled what had happened. He laid back into the pillow and continued listening.

_"Initial examinations haven't given us much—other than he had a dangerously elevated heart rate." _

_"Drugs?"_

_"Well, we sent a hair follicle sample for analysis, but we haven't gotten the results back yet."_

_"There's a rumor going around on the streets about a new drug with some particularly nasty withdrawal symptoms, I wonder if it's related."_

_"Well, if it is, our test won't detect it. But it could be anything—heroin, cocaine, methamphetamines—they all have symptoms like this in varying degrees."_

_You think you know so much... Arrogant whelp  
_

Mao shuddered. "Can medical tests detect Geass?" he wondered aloud, slightly nervous.

_"What's on the recording?"_

_"I'm not sure—I listened for like a minute, but it's just some woman going on and on to somebody named 'Mao'"_

_"His name, perhaps?"_

_"Don't know."_

Mao scowled. "So they know my name," he whispered.

_"Hey, it looks like he's come to!"_

_"Alright, Wang. Let's go see him."_

Mao watched their dim shapes move across the floor behind the glass, saw them come to the door, disarm the lock, and enter the room. Finally getting a look at his captors, he surveyed their appearance. Doctor Quentin was an older man, balding with a thin black mustache tracing his mouth while Doctor Wang was clean-shaven sporting lush black hair, young but brilliant for his age.

"Are you awake, then?" Doctor Quentin asked, attempting to sound cheerful, but coming off smug. "Ah, forgive me, I am Doctor Quentin and this," he pointed toward the young man, "is my understudy, Doctor Wang."

_But soon I'll displace you, old man. _"Feeling any better?" Doctor Wang asked.

Mao shook his head almost imperceptibly.

_I've never seen eyes like that… It's unreal  
_

"Is your name, 'Mao', by any chance?" Doctor Quentin ventured.

Mao made no reply, turning his head away.

_Won't talk, eh? Well, then..._

"Why are my wrists tied?" Mao demanded, breaking the silence.

"You were having some violent seizures and we feared you might be a danger to yourself," Doctor Quentin explained.

_Or others_

"Or others," his assistant added.

"But you have some questions to answer," Doctor Quentin answered. "For instance, are you taking any illegal drugs?"

Mao shook his head.

_You expect me to believe that?_

"Then why are you having these symptoms? Are you epileptic?" Doctor Quentin pressed.

"I don't know," Mao managed.

_Nice try_

"You're not," Doctor Quentin assured him. "We took blood from you and measured it for prolactin. The results were normal. If you _were _epileptic, it's likely there would have been elevated levels of prolactin in your blood ten to twenty minutes after your collapse."

"And another simple test will determine the presence of drug compounds within your body. The test results should be back tomorrow morning," Doctor Wang warned. "If you do, then you'll have the police to deal with as well. You can either talk to us or wait to talk to them. Your choice."

Mao smiled, despite the circumstances. It always amused him how many times people spoke without thinking first.

Doctor Quentin raised an eyebrow.

"Till then, you'll remain here, under house arrest," Doctor Wang explained carefully, whilst his companion made his way to the sink.

After a brief wash, the two Doctors turned away and marched out of the room, leaving Mao alone with their thoughts. His head sank back into the pillow. "Damn this," he muttered. "I have to get out of here. Quickly." He struggled uselessly against the restraints once more. Whoever applied them had been serious about keeping him there.

_Is he…muttering to himself? We should observe his behavior closely._

Mao closed his eyes, struggling to focus, but only felt worse.

_I hope grandma gets better_

_That nurse drives me crazy_

_Rei said she'd call me back today_

"Not again," Mao whimpered, shaking his head back and forth.

_I wish it wasn't raining_

_Doctor Huai is such a creep  
_

_Why is that so funny?_

"BE QUIET!" Mao roared, racking his body against the restraints. Alarms began to sound on the monitors as his heart began to race. "Rrrrah!" he roared, his muscles bulging as he attempted to pull free.

_Shit, it's happening again?_

The Doctors rushed back, crashing through the door in disbelief.

"Please!" Mao shouted. "Please, just give me my player! I need her!"

"He's become incoherent," Doctor Wang lamented.

Pushing off from his restraints, Mao began to slam his head into the back wall repeatedly, grunting with each blow. "Shut up! Shut up!"

"We haven't said anything," Doctor Wang countered.

"Don't argue with him!" Doctor Quentin scolded, exasperated.

"Why are the voices so loud?" Mao wailed.

"Oh my god!" Doctor Wang exclaimed. "He's insane!"

Doctor Quentin rushed to a nearby cabinet, fumbling with the lock for a moment. Once inside, he drew out a long syringe and filled it. "We need to sedate him," he said, walking towards the bed carefully.

Mao eyed the needle in horror. "No! What is that? I don't want it! I don't want it!" Mao protested as the Doctor sank the sharp metal into his flesh. Mao winced as pain flared up his arm.

_That's it, nice and easy_

Drawing the needle away, Doctor Quentin wiped it clean and waited patiently.

Mao felt his energy slipping away and he became unable to raise himself up. Soon, tossing his head as he was became a chore. From then on, only a few moments passed before darkness—and silence—overcame him, and he fell asleep.

* * *

Mao's opened his eyes slowly, blinking several times in order to get a clear picture of his surroundings.

The room had changed to four white walls, a steel door with a grated screen, a four post bed and a single camera. Looking down, he realized his body was constricted by a taught white straight jacket, his arms bound together in a loop. His breathing increased as he began to panic, rolling around on the bed to try and loosen the device. However, the more he struggled, the tighter the device seemed to become, and he gasped in pain, falling to the floor.

_I am a butterfly. I am! Why can't they see!_

_I'm going to kill them! Kill them all! Yes, then we will reach the sky!_

_Why? Why do they treat me like this? I'm not a danger to anyone… I'm just…me_

_I? I? Who Am I? Who is me?_

_"Yes, yes, you're right. That is the best plan."_

_Those children! Their faces…if anybody finds out…my life is over_

_What is this…strange feeling? Why does it feel like I'm back at home? That was so long ago…_

_Stay away from me demons! Stay away! _

_"Get back here! I have to wash you down!"_

_No! No! They've found me! Somebody help!_

_Why don't they just take their medication willingly? It's for their own good...  
_

**_NONE OF THIS IS REAL!_**

Mao arched his back, clenching his teeth tightly, screaming to try and drown them out. But to no avail. For an hour or so he fought them, sliding his way across the floor in agony until he found himself backed against the far wall. Unable to cope with the strain any longer, he slumped into the corner and laid there, silently trembling. He had given up.

After some time, the steel door opened, scraping loudly against the cold floor. Mao barely lifted his eyes to regard a tall clean-shaven man with a long dark braid and sharp glasses. He was wearing a long white coat and carrying a syringe filled with a golden liquid, _RF-442_, Mao deduced from a simple mental probe, though he understood little of the associated chemical data.

"It seems you've fallen from your bed," the man, Doctor Huai, sneered. "Ah, but where are my manners. I am Doctor Huai. I run the psychiatric ward here at the hospital."

"Psychiatric ward?" Mao repeated in disbelief. "Why am I here?"

"Because we can help each other out," the Doctor replied with a devious smile, looking at him as if he were a hunter's trophy.

Mao's head fell to the side as he focused his mind upon him, giving him a measure of relief. An involuntary smile spread across his face.

"That's it, smile," the Doctor quipped. "The results of your drug test came in this morning and it turns out you're clean. However, that means your certifiably insane so my task is to get rid of those awful voices plaguing you and, in return, you're going to help me with my…research."

_If you survive, that is._

"I'm not insane," Mao ventured weakly.

"Of course not," Doctor Huai mocked. "You're merely a man who hears voices that aren't there."

_If you're not crazy now, you will be when I'm done with you…_

Mao bit his lip, forcing himself to remain silent.

"Relax," the Doctor intoned as he strode forward, bringing the syringe to his neck and hovering the needle agonizingly close.

"I want my player," Mao begged, desperate. "Please, just let me have it. I need it."

"Pardon me, but who is the girl on the recording?" Doctor Huai inquired, savoring the young man's desperation.

Mao's eyes narrowed.

"Is she someone we should be looking for too?" the Doctor pressed, a slight smile curling at his lips.

Annoyed by the threat, Mao spat in the Doctor's face, splattering his eyes with a burst of spittle. "I'll kill you," he threatened, his voice grave.

The man raised a hand to remove his glasses, wiping the saliva away. His eyes underneath were like ice and his expression dry.

_I guess I struck a nerve. So unsanitary! I'll have to disinfect my face or something_

"You don't have it in you," Doctor Huai asserted, his stance one of absolute confidence.

"How would you know?" Mao countered, confused by the assertion.

"Your eyes," the Doctor replied, his glasses gleaming in the light. "Your eyes are innocent. Like a child's. Not those of a killer, I'm afraid. With eyes like that you can't fool anyone," he explained.

Mao fell silent, taken aback. "My eyes..." he muttered to himself, blinking.

"But in any case, I'm afraid all your possessions have been confiscated, pending completion of your treatment," the Doctor added coldly.

"Treatment?" Mao repeated. "I don't need treatment. I need my player."

But Doctor Huai merely ignored him and drove the needle hard into his neck, more painfully than necessary to make his point. Mao growled as his senses reeled. "What are you giving me?" he demanded, whilst he could still speak.

"It's an experimental compound," the Doctor replied dryly. "It's effects are quite interesting, but don't worry, you'll be taking quite a bit of it."

Mao shuddered, feeling quite strange. His eyes glossed over, rolling across the room in long, lazy sweeps. The walls began to melt, falling down in thick burning slabs, rather like wax. The floor dissolved into a pool and he felt as if he was suddenly falling through space.

_My, my, the reaction is so interesting…every time_

His heartbeat soared, making it hard to breathe. His head swam as he lost all sense of reality, terror rising like a knot in his throat.


	6. Slipping Mao: The Right To Go Insane

**Author's Note:**** If Mao couldn't read minds, this story wouldn't be able to survive. The reason? Having a character who is alone becomes difficult to convey in a believable way (for all you _Death Note_ fans, Ohba said he created Matt because Mello working alone was too static), since there is no interaction to develop his character with or explain his actions. But Mao hears what _almost _everyone else is thinking and talks to himself, enabling him to carry forward the plot in a believable way AND, since he knows what _almost _everyone else is really feeling, I can write emotional descriptions without coming from an omniscient POV.**

**Music Recommendation:****"Mysterious Family" by Jun Abe from the _Fruit's __Basket Soundtrack_ followed by****"World Depression" (Track 18) by Nakagawa Koutarou from the _Code Geass R2 Soundtrack_  
**

* * *

_**Slipping Mao**_

**(The Right To Go Insane)**_**  
**_

_Mao's eyes fluttered open, suddenly startled by the bright rays of the morning sun. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around, confused. It was an exceptionally beautiful day, a light breeze blowing through the autumn trees. _

_He ran his hand along the ground, savoring the feeling of the lush grass. "Where am I?" he asked no one in particular. "Was it all a dream?" he muttered. His mind reeled._

_"Mao, are you awake?" a familiar voice asked._

_Whirling around, Mao found C.C. standing behind him. She knelt down and smiled._

_Mao's eyes widened. "C.C.!" he exclaimed. _

_"What's wrong, Mao?" C.C. asked, concern etched on her lovely features. _

_"I-I..." Mao began, but he couldn't get the words out. Tears welled up in his eyes and streamed down his face as he fell forward, burying his face in her breasts, sobbing uncontrollably for some reason._

_"Mao," C.C. intoned tenderly, drawing him close and running her hands through his hair to comfort him. "It was just a bad dream," she assured him. "Everything is alright now, I'm here."_

_Mao looked up, awed by the angelic outline the sun's rays traced around her face, afraid to close his eyes. __  
__  
_

"Do you like it?" he heard a cruel voice call out.

Suddenly, the grass, the trees, the sky, the sun and finally C.C. herself vanished, leaving Mao gasping in a small white room as his head throbbed. For a sickening moment he was unable to distinguish between the two worlds. He brought his forehead down to his knee, his hair dripping with sweat.

"Incredible isn't it?" the voice asked. It was Doctor Huai.

Mao slowly brought his eyes up to meet those of the twisted man before him.

"Well, what do you think?" the Doctor pressed. "It's completely raw, which accounts for the body's strong reaction against it. The effect could probably be tempered with some kind of relaxant. You wouldn't believe the funding I'm receiving for this little compound," Doctor Huai explained excitedly.

Mao glanced toward him sharply, probing his mind for the information. It seemed the wealthy Britannian Rosenberg Institute had been secretly funding Huai's research into the compound, although the Doctor didn't know the reason, promising legal protection for the Doctor's use of the asylum inmates as test subjects.

"No wonder the thoughts are so messed up around here," Mao muttered.

"What was that?" Doctor Huai asked.

Mao shook his head.

"Hmm, I suppose I shouldn't bother conversing with a crazy person," the Doctor remarked, returning the syringe to his pocket and drawing forth a new one.

"No! Please, not again! Enough!" Mao pleaded hoarsely.

"Calm down, this is just a sedative," Doctor Huai replied. "I'll be putting you under a lot, when you're not being useful or kept alive, for example."

Mao swallowed hard, his body tensing to receive the injection.

"However, if you don't cooperate, I'll just leave you _awake_," the Doctor threatened.

And with that, the Doctor moved forward, inserting the thin needle into his neck in one deft motion, flooding his body with the noxious chemical.

Mao's head slumped forward as the sedative ran its course, the darkness returning.

* * *

"_C.C., wake up!" Mao called, only a breath away from her face._

_Slightly startled out of a deep sleep, C.C. bolted upright from the soft ground. "Mao, what is it?" she asked, forcing her tawny eyes open and taking a quick look around._

"_It's the butterflies, C.C.! They came out of their cocoons, all forty of them!" Mao explained excitedly._

_Smiling softly, C.C. stood to her feet and Mao grabbed her arm, practically dragging her across the ground as they ran toward the nest. _

_Several weeks before, they had painstakingly picked forty stalks of milkweed with caterpillars still chewing on the leaves. C.C. and Mao had filled their stolen dishes with water and placed the stems of the milkweed in them. Within just a few hours, all the caterpillars had curled up on the underside of the leaves and hung upside down. A few days later, they were all enveloped within beautiful, soft green cocoons, speckled with flakes of gold. But now, after several weeks, their metamorphosis was complete!_

_Gorgeous butterflies fanned their brilliant colorfully laced wings dry. They clung to the flowers, climbed the trees, and fluttered gracefully through the air. Mao put his hand out and three of them perched on him without fear._

_As Mao played with them, C.C. drew a little sweet sap from a nearby tree and, mixing it with water in a bowl, held it out. The butterflies crowded around to hungrily suck up the nectar. _

_Carefully, Mao and C.C. took turns and covered each other in butterflies, savoring each moment. The playful critters climbed all over them, fanning their wings, nuzzling them with their tiny faces._

_Soon, however, one by one, the butterflies grew more curious and flew away, swept up in the wind, exploring their newfound freedom._

_Mao and C.C. were left standing conspicuously in the middle of a peaceful glade, watching them go with mixed feelings. _

The vision, so real, so vivid, faded as the compound wore off, however, and Mao sighed, feeling more exhausted with the passing of each ordeal. He felt a stinging pain and bent his neck awkwardly to relieve it.

_He didn't even feel a thing_

"Some interesting observations today," Doctor Huai mused, seated several paces across from him in a steel chair, writing furiously on his clipboard. "I burned your neck with this," he held up a small torch, lighting the electrical fire for effect. "You gave no reaction whatsoever under the influence. You were completely immune to the pain. Isn't that interesting?"

Mao scowled, looking haggard and wan. "If you're so interested in this chemical, why don't you test it on yourself?" he retorted sharply.

The Doctor smirked. "Well, if that's your attitude today, I'll just have to let the voices have their way with you tonight."

Mao looked away, not wanting the fear to show on his face.

_That will teach him not to talk back... It will take some time in his case, but I __**will **__break him_

With that, the Doctor capped his pen and closed his clipboard. Standing to his feet, he winked at Mao and took his leave, locking the door firmly behind him

Mao tried to remain focused on him, tried to keep out the other thoughts.

_Rosenberg will certainly be interested in this…_

But it was no use. He tried to think of C.C. instead, feeling himself actually _want _another injection then. At least she would be there to hold him then-even if it was only imaginary. But still, despite his best efforts, the thoughts of the insane assaulted his senses, their delusions and invisible torments swirling together into a raving cacophony inside his mind. Once more, his heart raced and he began rolling around the floor in agony, gasping for air.

"I hate you!" he raged at the camera amidst the spray of spittle, its cold eye unblinking. He threw his head back as blood began to pour down his face, mingled with his sweat. Hours went by, the only reprieve coming when some of the inmates finally fell asleep. He could never get used to this feeling, no matter how many times he went through it.

However, eventually morning did come, though he could not tell in his windowless cell.

When Doctor Hwai came in, he took notice of the trail of blood staining his platinum hair. "My, my, seems as if you've experienced hematridrosis. How fascinating!" the Doctor beamed. "It's where tiny blood vessels burst in the sweat glands, resulting in complete physical exhaustion. Christ was supposed to have suffered from the same malady at one point."

Later, someone shoved a tray of food through the door, to which Mao crawled shakily, forcing himself. He had to stay alive, he reminded himself. Because somewhere out there, C.C. still needed him. He would escape, he would save her.

But a couple months went by, how long exactly Mao could not tell, losing the ability to distinguish between the days. The schedule remained the same, however: at some time in the morning, he would be fed, later Doctor Huai would come in and inject him with RF-442, he would relive some memory of his time with C.C. (honestly it was the only thing that kept him going), the Doctor would study his reactions, record the results, and give him a sedative to put him to sleep, if he felt like it, that is. Then the process would repeat again the next day.

But one day, Doctor Huai had a guest touring the ward. The man's thoughts caught Mao's interest and he focused his Geass upon him. "Name is Rupert Deneuvre, a Britannian noble and representative of the Rosenberg Institute," Mao muttered. He was engaged in conversation with Doctor Huai, who was extremely nervous. "Huai is scared of him, hmm?" Mao remarked with a smile.

_"So what do you have for us?"_

_"Well, we've discovered many useful things about RF-442. It floods the brain with dopamine and appears to induce a vivid hallucination of past experiences, all of them pleasant, from what I've recorded. And more than that, the subject is completely oblivious to their surroundings during the trip, including extreme physical pain, which we tested for."_

_"What of the body's reaction to the compound?"_

_"Well, in its raw state, the synergy is rather crude. Also temporary behavioral abnormality is exhibited while under the influence and when it wears off, it can leave the subject exhausted, sometimes with trouble distinguishing between the two realities. The problem can be exacerbated with continued use."_

_"Well, that is interesting. Such a compound is exactly what we're looking for."_

_"For what purpose?"_

_"It would be wise of you __**not **__to ask questions you have no need to know the answers to."  
_

_"Of course…"_

But Mao probed behind the thought, searching through his memories for the truth. "The Rosenberg Institute is seeking a compound to deploy in particularly hostile Areas in order to addict the local population, make them docile, and cripple any armed resistance," Mao muttered, his anger rising at learning such a petty reason for his torture. "Ah, and it would function perfectly as an interrogation aid."

The two men came by his door, staring at him through the eye of the camera.

_"This is my best subject. He's completely insane, of course—claims he hears voices, always muttering to himself. However, I largely owe the success of our research here to his consistent reactions and visionary clarity."_

_"Well he certainly looks like a **freak**." Those eyes-the same sigil they spoke of. It's definitely him... Time to call it in.  
_

Intrigued, the young man proceeded to learn everything he could about this man, Deneuvre, and the Rosenberg Institute which employed him. "They receive their orders...from Second Prince Schneizel el Britannia."

The details his probe revealed did little good to Mao, however, as he had almost no experience with which to connect it. Instead he left the man's mind alone and worked some more on the plan for his escape, something he had been fine tuning in his spare time.

An hour or so later, Doctor Huai strode into the room. "Good news! It looks like our little chemical is a success," he beamed. "I suppose there's no use for you anymore, now that it's been accepted. We'll just have to give you a lobotomy," he mused. "You'll like it, it'll get rid of those voices," he added, unable to stifle a giggle. "It's a procedure where they cut an incision into your forehead and then drill through the skull, exposing a small section of the brain. Then they take a pick and scrape it all around inside, scrambling your brains like an egg yolk."

_There really is nothing quite like the feeling of soft brain tissue tearing under the blade of a pick... I'm having an erection just thinking about it!_

"Well, perhaps you'll be honored for your efforts against terrorism," Mao suggested nonchalantly.

The Doctor blinked in surprise. "What are you talking about?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Britannia plans to turn RF-442 into a drug to interrogate prisoners of war and pacify colonial populations with armed terrorist activity," Mao explained.

_What the hell? Where did this come from?  
_

"And how would _you_ know that?" the Doctor demanded skeptically, incredulous. "Wait, how do you even know it's called RF-442? I never told you that."

"How indeed," Mao mocked, a smile curling at his lips. He hadn't smiled in months. "No, you're right. What's worse is the topic of…your mother."

Doctor Huai scowled in disbelief. "You really have gone crazy now. What are you talking about?"

"Your mother raped you regularly since you were eight," Mao continued, undeterred. "Because of it, you've never been able to sexually perform properly. This makes you feel inferior to other men, which has pushed you to pursue a demanding field like psychiatry. That's why you take such pleasure in dominating your patients; you enjoy feeling like _you're_ finally in control."

Doctor Huai stepped back, his face paling with every word to a deathly white, almost as white as Mao's own. "Y-You don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, almost hysterical. "You're making it all up!"

_What's going on here? I don't understand…how could he know that? I never told anyone! _

"Oh, but we both know the truth," Mao countered, smiling darkly. Standing to his feet, he cast a quick glance at the door. The dear doctor had left it open. Mao increased the pressure. "You're nothing but an abused little boy, pretending to be tough; a pile of worthless trash who in turn bullies those placed under his 'care'."

The horrified man sank to his knees, averting his gaze in shame. His mouth made tremulous motions of speech, but no words would come.

"Do you know what those bureaucrats would do if they found out what you've _really _been doing here—working as a dog of Britannia?" Mao pressed. "The Federation and the Empire are polite enough on the surface, but everyone knows that underneath that tactical facade lies a deep seated rivalry and intrigue. A traitor like you would be quite troublesome."

Doctor Huai shuddered, his eyes wide with terror as his imagination filled in the gruesome details.

Positioning himself behind him, Mao brought his mouth down to his ear. "It's time for you to pay for what you've done," he hissed.

The broken man nodded, his thoughts becoming disjointed. Then there was a strangled scream as Mao hefted his bound arms over the Doctor's neck, the improvised garotte of the straight jacket cutting into his windpipe.

Huai didn't even try to pry the hands away as his head was forced father back. Mao began laughing maniacally, easing him forward for a quick bout of air and then wrenching him back once more several times.

_This is…what I deserve_

"What are my eyes telling you now?" Mao taunted, at last satisfied. He pulled back sharply, squeezing the last few breaths from the Doctor's heaving lungs. In a few moments, he felt Huai go limp; his mind quiet as death took him. Undoing the loop he had fashioned, Mao surveyed the body contemptuously, stooping down and removing a key with his teeth.

"Pathetic," Mao spat as he fumbled with the lock on his straight jacket. Eventually, it came undone and Mao's tore his arms free. He peeled off the uncomfortable garment and threw it upon the dirty floor, closing his eyes for a moment to savor the relief at being able to move freely once more. He strode past the corpse and into the hall, continuing forward on his quest with a determined pace. Coming to a small room around the corner, he found his clothes, his money and…his player!

Like an ailing person desperately in need of medicine, Mao snatched up the device, which had been given fresh batteries by the hospital for their research, and fit the snug headphones over his ears, pressing 'play' hurriedly.

_"How are you Mao? Are you traveling? You should see the world! You have the time now, after all. Trust me."_

Mao closed his eyes for a moment, his mind savoring the relief. Nodding his head in acknowledgment, Mao donned the mauve shirt, smoothing the sleeves over his long arms, and pulled on the pair of sleek black pants, finishing with the long white leather coat. His gaze settled on the dark visor resting on the counter top and he paused.

_"Your eyes are innocent. Like a child's. Not those of a killer, I'm afraid. With eyes like that you can't fool anyone. And that's why you'll never get out of here," Doctor Huai had boasted._

Closing his fingers around the shades, he placed them over his eyes, providing an impenetrable shield of shiny black with which to reflect the world back at itself.

_"_To rescue C.C... I'll have to do some pretty bad things, I suppose. People need to fear me. But if I'm unable to hide this innocence because of my eyes, then I'll wear this visor from now until I have her back," Mao affirmed, clenching his fist in determination._ "_I can't allow myself to be emotional anymore. I have to be more like her if I'm going to succeed._"_

___"I'll always love you, Mao. No matter what."_

"This," Mao said to the air, raising his voice. "Is my sacrifice for you, C.C.!" His outfit complete, he stuffed the eighteen thousand or so yuan into his pockets, along with the ring he had forged, and headed back for the hall.

Strolling down the corridors of the psychiatric ward, his senses were assaulted by the screams, moans and cackling laughter of the insane inmates imprisoned there, the noise amplified as it echoed off the ceramic walls. But his mind was quiet underneath his headphones and Mao couldn't help but grin at his rediscovered freedom. His Geass, which forced him to hear the thoughts of all the staff and security personnel, enabled him to know exactly where they were, what they were doing , and when they were coming, allowing him to easily evade and bypass them.

He occasionally glanced into the grated doors as he passed by, filled with vacant-eyed men and women, intoxicated with the latest pharmaceutical, mood altering drugs that modern medical science could conjure.

Shaking his head sadly, he continued on, his foot falls brisk, as he entered the elevator, inputting the combination for the bottom floor.

Finishing his ride in the elevator, the doors creaked open and Mao stepped out, into the busy lobby of the hospital. "Perfect," he muttered as he carefully blended into the crowd and made his way out the automatic double doors and into the cool evening air, breathing in deeply. He was certain of only one thing: he would never be the same after an experience like that. Some things just never heal.

* * *

**Endsong:**** "Down With The Sickness" by Disturbed**

**Author's Note: Congratulations to all who figured out what "RF-442" was by the end of the last chapter! If you still don't know after this chapter, well…**


	7. Missing Mao: In the City of Purple Light

**Recommended Music: "Kimyou na Kuukan" by Saitou Tsuney from the _xxxHolic Soundtrack_, followed by "Kagutsuchi Kourin" by Kajiuri Yuki from the _Mai-HIME Original Soundtrack Vol. 1_,  
**

* * *

_**Missing Mao**_

**(In the City of Purple Light)**

The moon shone eerily through the window as Mao lay under the smooth covers in his motel room, despite the hot night. His entire face was contorted in agony and he shook uncontrollably, legs jerking and kicking as he thrashed about. Sweat beaded his forehead and ran down his neck; his hair dripping wet.

He stared ahead wildly, unseeing, unable to speak, the melodic voice of C.C. which played in his ears his only source of comfort. "It's that damn drug!" Mao seethed hoarsely through grit teeth. "I didn't…realize my body would need it like this."

Mao had discovered something was painfully wrong with him last night and stumbled into a cheap motel looking for a place to hide from the aftermath of Doctor Huai's murder for a while.

But the police would prove to be the least of his worries at the moment. As he laid there the world around him appeared dim, the air like an evanescent haze falling heavy upon his eyes. His mind couldn't focus. Letters, bits and pieces, numbers, faint images, sounds, smells, the occasional taste. These swirled together in his mind like a storm, unwillingly stolen from those around him unaware of the assault on their minds. His chest rose and fell like a motorized compressor, his breaths shallow and rapid.

In the midst of his delirium, however, he perceived a shadowy figure approaching the bed. The face, a swirl of dull cream and fire, was obscured by the haze, its form darkly shimmering against the murky backdrop. He could see long spindly arms reaching towards him and Mao's eyes widened in terror. He tried to cry out, but for some reason could not.

Suddenly he felt a shooting pain stab into his neck. Soon, however, a feeling of peace came over him. At last, Mao could feel the fit subsiding. He sucked in several deep breaths, unsure how long he would have the chance. Rolling his head over, his platinum strands drenched with sweat, he set his gaze in search of the intruder. He suddenly realized, however, that he couldn't move.

They were very close by. It was a man. Young by the faint details Mao could perceive. But before he could learn anything further, the room fell away in an all too familiar spin-the carpet growing into grass, the coat hanger branching out into a tree. The light from the lamp became the rays of the sun while the ceiling dissolved into a blue sky filled with rolling white clouds.

It was happening exactly as before. He was there again. This timeless place he had been sent back to over and over. He saw himself raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sudden blinding light of the sun. But she was there too. As long as he looked for her. He knew he needed to get out. That this mysterious stranger posed a severe threat. That none of this was real. But the pull of the chemical world proved too strong and he felt his senses slip completely from reality.

* * *

Like the clearing away of a thick fog, Mao's eyes suddenly came alive once more. It was dark. The air oddly still. For a moment, he thought he must be under the influence of the drug because he could see that a faint purple glow had settled over the area.

The young man shook his head roughly, his eyes adjusting to the new surroundings, however, and he wasn't so sure. His consciousness quickly acclimated and he began picking up vast amounts of information from an alarming number of sources.

_It's been a long day. I'm sure the Director will give me the rest of the night off._

_Focus, focus, focus!_

_"Let's take a break for now."_

_Where is that fragment? Was it misfiled, perhaps? Such incompetence!_

_"Now remember, just like I showed you"_

_That light, so beautiful..._

_"You see, under the Master's advice, even the secrets of the universe will open themselves up to us!"_

_...A special privilege indeed_

_More children? "Where were they taken from?"_

_Careful..._

_"No, never mind, I don't want to know." Where should they go?_

_"Put them with the others. Find space in the rooms for them."_

_...The solution must be in exact percentages_

"Where am I?" he muttered. It was then that he realized he was on his knees looking down at the floor. One knee rested atop a smooth, cold surface while the other lay upon a long roll of deep carpet which ran down the length of the steps. Emblazoned upon the wall, he could see a familiar sigil.

"Geass?," Mao whispered in confusion.

_"Don't worry Mao..."_

Whoever had brought him here had left him with his headphones. He found that surprising, given his recent experience. What could their intentions be, he wondered.

_He doesn't look like much. Why go through so much trouble over him?_

Mao cast a suspicious glance sideways at the young man to his left. He was tall and lanky, with wispy brown hair and magenta eyes. Watching him warily with a bland stare, the boy's surprisingly youthful face appeared expressionless.

_He's looking at me now. He'll probably try to use it soon. But I'll be ready when he does._

"I bid you welcome, Mao," a childlike voice intoned from up ahead. Lifting his gaze, he saw a throne of sorts upon which sat a young boy with blonde hair so long it outgrew his small frame, and lavender eyes which scrutinized him carefully. Their look reminded him of C.C.'s ; young eyes that masked long years. He was dressed in fine clothes with a golden circlet upon his flaxen head. "It would seem the Lady C.C. has been continuing her work in solitude," he mused.

"He knows about C.C.?" Mao muttered to himself, staring at the strange boy with suspicion. But if that came as a surprise to him, what happened next shook him to the core. Suddenly Mao's eyes went wide as he focused his Geass upon the child to obtain the answers he sought, just as he had done countless times before. But to his shock, the boy's mind was completely empty! There were no thoughts Mao could detect at all.

Whereas with C.C. such an experience was absolute bliss, _here, _with this strange child, it was absolutely terrifying. And what kept nagging at the back of Mao's fractured mind was that somehow this boy and this place felt eerily familiar, like a distant memory. But since meeting C.C., he had never, _ever_, met another whose thoughts he didn't know. Had he?

The boy grinned, despite himself, obviously amused by the subject's confusion. Mao grit his teeth, instead focusing his power upon the young man at his side, who watched him with unblinking eyes. His feat revealed that they were currently underground, beneath the Tengger Desert, at a place called the Geass Directorate, a top secret research community devoted to studying the esoteric mysteries of the power.

And what was more, this individual possessed a Geass of his own. It enabled him to effectively paralyze the people around him, literally stop their sense of time. He was an assassin! Suddenly, the circumstances began to make sense. So this was the reason he hadn't been able to resist his abduction. Mao couldn't help but stare though. He had never met someone else who possessed Geass and unless C.C. herself hadn't told him she was leaving him to find someone who _would _fulfill her contract, he wouldn't have even thought there were any.

Mao pursed his lips as he stared at the young man out of the corner of his burning eye, fearful that this might indeed be C.C.'s new charge-the one fated to kill her. Finally Mao penetrated deeper, surprised by how far buried something so simple as his name was. He was still finding it difficult to concentrate. Lloyd Stockholme. He breathed a sigh of relief-his contract was with this boy, not C.C. He turned his attention back to the child in front of him.

"V.V.?" Mao greeted, gleaning the information from Lloyd's mind. Like C.C., Mao thought. But it couldn't be. Could it?

The boy whom Lloyd knew as V.V. raised an eyebrow. "Well done. Perhaps this will enlighten you," he said as a burning phoenix sigil began to glow from his forehead.

Mao's gasped. "Exactly like C.C.'s," he muttered. "Just who are you!" he demanded suddenly, still quite afraid. "What do you want with me?"

"You bear the power of Geass, don't you?," V.V. mused, his voice almost mocking as he ignored the question. "And this Geass was granted to you by the Lady C.C. It must have been some time ago by the looks of it. Because of that, my subordinates think bringing you here is a great risk. Nonetheless, this is where you belong. Here at the Project. The order that C.C. herself once led."

Mao's eyes widened. "C.C. was here?"

"Oh yes," V.V. replied. "For a good many years, too. She taught us much."

"Why? What could her interest be in you people?" Mao questioned.

V.V. raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh try not to be so surprised. She is far older than you suppose. And there are lots of things she never told you about her past, after all."

Mao grit his teeth, his fingers tightening into a shaking fist. "How did you find me?" he blurted out. He just wanted to get away from this boy and his proud, condescending tone and silent mind.

V.V. chuckled slightly at the question. "You _did_ leave a string of disruptions in your little trek across China. We had you transferred into one Doctor Huai's custody to be sure. He's one of our operatives-not a member of the Order, of course. But we needed to be delicate in our investigation, you understand, to maintain the secrecy of the Project," he explained. "Rupert Deneuvre finally made the I.D. for us. Our plan was to have you transferred quietly, but somebody obviously didn't follow instructions. You're escape forced our hand, leaving an embarrassing dead body and a cache of secret drugs. But rest assured, _everything _has been taken care of."

Suddenly the vision of an explosion decimating the hospital entered Mao's mind and he caught his meaning. "So what do you want with me?" Mao asked, clearing his throat.

"Your help with the work we do here. See, we can train you to control this ability of yours," V.V. explained. "The boy to your left, Rolo, will be your escort and is to accompany you throughout the City." It was odd seeing someone who looked so much younger refer to another as 'boy'.

The young man whom V.V. had called Rolo , however, nodded, saying nothing.

_So I am to keep him in check and kill him if he threatens the Project. Easy enough._

"His name is Lloyd," Mao countered.

_-How? He dies now. No one can know my past_

Rolo visibly bristled, his eyes going wide. What happened next, Mao couldn't be sure but before he knew it, he blinked and there was a pistol ground hard into his forehead.. But Mao hadn't discerned any planning or forethought. "That's a nice trick," Mao mused, careful with his tone of voice given his precarious position. "But it would seem it stops your heart at the same time, doesn't it? Not exactly a perfect weapon, if you ask me."

Rolo's eye darted toward V.V., looking for the order, but the blonde haired boy shook his head.

"It shouldn't be surprising, given the nature of his Geass. He can find out anything about you," V.V. chided. "Try not to let it get to you. I wouldn't have expected such an emotional response out of you, Rolo. Remember your place."

Rolo slowly lowered the barrel from Mao's forehead, leaving a bit of a sting. "My apologies, Director," he managed, his eyes darting down to the floor in embarrassment. "I can assure you it won't happen again."

"You're in the advanced stage of Geass, right? I'm surprised we found you near any settlement at all. It must be just dreadful ," V.V. continued, feigning a dramatically concerned tone. "But if you cooperate, we might be able to help you control it."

Mao's eyes fell downward. "Teach me to...control it?" he muttered to himself.

"The woman in the recording-Lady C.C. right?" V.V. continued. "Are you looking for her? Do you want her back?"

"-Don't go there," Mao hissed through grit teeth, his tone deadly serious. "Just don't." Rolo tightened his fist, ready for anything.

"Struck a nerve, have we?" V.V. taunted. "But hear me out first. You're in luck. We're looking for her too. After we find her, we're going to bring her back here. One big happy reunion."

Mao's eyes narrowed, feeling strong enough to finally stand to his feet.

_Careful... Don't be stupid_, Rolo's thoughts echoed in his mind.

"And what could _you _want with C.C.?" Mao pressed.

"No need for such a scary face," V.V. chided. "She seems to have lost her way. We only want to help her. Bring her back where she belongs."

Ready to spit these lies right back in the little boy's face , Mao paused for a moment, pondering what had just been said to him. "I can't trust these people," he whispered to himself. "But...can they really find C.C.? As long as I'm here, I could protect her, right?"

"Regardless of whether you believe us or not, we alone control the substance upon which your body now depends," V.V. spoke up, tiring of the exchange, his tone like a bored kid. "There is very important work to be done, and we have not the time for petty matters. Rolo take Mao to his new quarters. Explain to him the basics of his new routine."

Without a word, Rolo nodded and set a firm grip around Mao's arm, wrenching him away.

_Good luck, 'Mao'. You'll need it._

Mao stood at the large window, his hands pressed against the thick pane in awe as he stared down at the vast City. There were numerous dark buildings, tall as skyscrapers, illuminated by an eerie purple glow which seemed to emanate from mists drifting through the air, swirling outwards from the center. The Directorate was nestled within an enormous cavern, completely enclosed by towering rock walls and overshadowed by massive stalactites. Mao found himself wondering how the whole place worked, imagining the circulatory systems, electrical distribution network, recycling facilities. The engineering was incredible.

"How does Britannia hide something like this right under the soil of the Chinese Federation?" Mao blurted out, his breath having fogged up the glass by now.

_Who told him where we are? Is it just an assumption? Oh, that's right._

"Through self-sufficiency," Rolo spoke up. "Anyone who stumbles down here, doesn't come back out. It's as simple as that. The Chinese are far too preoccupied with their chess game with Britannia to go digging through their deserts."

"So you people..._study_ Geass?" Mao ventured, trying to prevent an awkward silence.

_What is he doing?_

"Why even bother asking me," Rolo cut him short. "When you can just take whatever information you want effortlessly?"

"I guess I'm just curious if you'll try to lie to me is all," Mao responded finally. "What people say and what they really think end up being very different."

Without a word, Rolo turned on his heels and left the room. "Try to get some rest tonight. Master V.V. is very eager for you to begin," he added over his shoulder as he closed the metallic door and sealed it from the outside, the sound of his departing footsteps completely obscured by the thick walls. At least the accommodations in his new quarters were better than his cell in the asylum.

He briefly studied the window once more. It was the only other way out of the room but...that was _quite _a fall to take. Only C.C. would survive a drop like that. Now sure of his imprisonment, he hung up his leather great coat and collapsed wearily into the bed provided for him, turning up the volume on his player.

_"Don't be sad, Mao. You have our memories to hold onto. Remember that time with the butterflies, or the story of the boy who would be king? Remember riding on my back through the villages? How much you loved the animals? Remember __that special night__, beneath the stars-just you and me. You were so nervous that night. And so was I..."_

Mao's mouth watered as he savored each succulent memory, his heavy eyes finally drifting off into a restful sleep.


	8. Training Mao: Thank You For Teaching Me

**Author's Introduction: I wanted to do a an arc where Mao is involved with a certain well known secret society and its quirky research team (if you know what I mean), but I was difficult to think of the storyline which might go with it. I feel not only does it give some spotlight time to some other great faces from **_**Code Geass**_**, but it also provides a more plausible explanation for some of Mao's later feats and canon abilities. **

**Recommended Music:** **"Cromartie In the Hospital" by Bear McCreary from _Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles Soundtrack_, followed by "Mysterious" by S.E.N.S. Project from the _xxxHolic Soundtrack, _followed by "Fall" by Daft Punk from the _Tron Legacy Soundtrack_._  
_**

* * *

_**Training Mao**_

**(Oshiete kurete arigatou gozaimashita)**

_KNOCK! Knock! knock!_

Mao bolted upright out of bed, jarred by the sound. Up ahead, the door slid open to reveal Rolo standing there, his eyes dull and vacant as usual.

_Hopefully, last night removed any thoughts of disobedience from him-for his sake_

"Time to wake up," the young man ordered, standing with his back to the wall as he watched Mao climb out of the bed and place his pale feet tentatively on the cold floor, slipping them into a pair of suede boots which he proceeded to buckle together.

Wearing only his mauve shirt, he stood to his feet and followed Rolo out the door without a word, taking an elevator down to floor level. They quickly disembarked and took to the dark streets which were dimly illuminated by lamps placed every few feet or so. They appeared deserted, the inhabitants holed up inside the towers, busy with their studies and experiments. The details interested Mao little.

He glanced toward Rolo out of the corner of his eye. If the young man noticed, he was concealing it very well. He faced forward, his thoughts unwavering in their singularity and his foot falls steady.

_I'll complete this mission, Master. He won't be a challenge._

Mao breathed in through his nose. He had to think of a plan-a way to get out of here. But how was he going to escape what appeared to be the most secure facility in China?

_We're gonna surprise him, hehe..._

Entering one of the towers, whose position seemed to follow a layout which spiraled outwards from the center-the place from which the purple light and mists emanated from-the two walked briskly through the bright lit tiled corridors, turning several corners until his guide led him into a room with a single steel table and chair. Inside was quite a surprise, however. There was a crowd of young children crammed in there, jeering and playing with each other. Several wires and electrodes idly snaked along the table as well as a row of monitors along the far wall which appeared to be switched off at the moment.

_It's Rolo!_

_Hey!_

_I gotta go pee_

_He can play with us!_

_Come on, Rolo!_

_I'm still hungry from breakfast_

_I miss mother..._

"Big brother, Rolo!" one of the children enthusiastically greeted, running over to throw her arms around the young man's thin legs, while the rest of the children crowded around him and began fawning over him excitedly.

_Was I like this once? I can't remember..._

"Hey you guys, how you doing?" Rolo greeted stooping down to them, his face suddenly adopting a sweet, caring and happy guise as his voice became soft and warm. He gave out several hugs, the kids barely able to contain their excitement.

"Is the test going to be fun today?" another child, a boy asked. So young.

"Of course it will," Rolo replied with a broad, beaming smile, tussling another's hair affectionately.

The children adored him. Mao took a step back, confused to the point of disgust.

"Alright, children," a raspy voice began as he approached the room. "Why don't we give Rolo some time to himself and you all just make your way into the rooms I showed you earlier."

Slowly the crowd receded out of the room like a wave, accompanied by a chorus of giggles and bragging.

Once they were gone, Rolo's face returned to normal-expressionless and hollow.

"You're using children?" Mao blurted out. "I suppose they're prisoners too?"

"Don't think of yourself as a prisoner, but rather a patient," Rolo countered. "Mr. Rosenkreutz is here to help you."

_It's science you short-sighted fool_

"Greetings, Haliburton," the man with the raspy voice ventured. He was dressed in thick robes draped around him like a cape while a coarse black cloth of some kind hung from his head to his shoulders, concealing most of his face. "Have you brought another subject for me today? Excellent, excellent," he rattled on. "

_Avert your eyes, avert your eyes. His stare is too...creepy._

"This is subject Mao," Rolo said to the enthusiastic researcher. "Please explain the proceedings of the experiment to him," he added, his arms hanging loosely at his sides as he leaned against the wall.

_He's staying too watch? Ah well, I suppose it's for my protection, after all... They said this one was 'unstable'. But how will I get any work done with that evil eye bearing down on me?_

"Right. Of course!" the man replied, his name apparently Rosenkreutz. "Please be seated here, Mao," the man indicated, pulling out the steel chair for him.

Seeing no other choice, Mao took his seat and waited patiently as the masked man connected several electrodes to his head, inputting a series of rapid keystrokes into his terminal.

_Let us see just how far advanced you are, hmm..._

"All we're going to do for now is study your focus," Rosenkreutz explained. "Your goal is essentially to focus on the group of children in this room," he indicated, pointing his finger to a monitor displaying the room to his right, "without reading the children from this other group to the left of us."

"That's not possible," Mao countered. "I can't control this power like that."

_Nonsense_

"I think you'll find that you can. Just do your best," Rosenkreutz replied with a wave of his hand, taking the headphones from Mao's neck as he switched off the player.

"Hey!" Mao protested. "I need that."

"Calm down, I'm just setting it aside for the experiment," the scientist assured him. "Give me a moment here...Alright, everything's ready. Please begin. Tell us what the group of children are saying in the room on the right."

Mao took a deep breath. For now, he was only focused on Rosenkreutz. Finally, the man covered his eyes and ears with a some kind of shield, blocking out his sensory input completely.

_Steady, steady now... Just take it real easy_

He imagined widening his range and immediately all the thoughts he had been holding back poured into his mind.

_Mmhmmm...snack_

_"But the wicked creature was very cunning, and she finally thought of a trick that would give her what she wanted." Hehe, no she won't_

_Time for a recess, I think_

_"Pay attention!"_

_"She placed a bar of iron in the middle of the kitchen floor, and then by her magic arts made the iron invisible to human eyes." I love this one..._

_How old is this fragment? The glyphs are indecipherable due to the erosion of the tablet..._

_I wanna go pee..._

_"They wrapped their faces up in these cloths that were treated with some secret chemical. That way they could be buried in their tombs for thousands of years and their faces wouldn't rot or anything. Nobody knows how to do it except the Egyptians. Even modern science." Eww, gross!_

_"Instantly the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear" This is my favorite part_

Mao tightened his fist as he closed his eyes to block out any distractions.

_These readings are incredible! _

_"Didn't you know water would be the end of me?"_

_"__ When I was coming out of the can, right before I got to the door, I sort of passed out. I was lucky, though. I mean I could've killed myself when I hit the floor, but all I did was sort of land on my side. it was a funny thing, though. I felt better after I passed out. I really did. My arm sort of hurt, from where I fell, but I didn't feel so damn dizzy anymore." He said a bad word!_

"Concentrate," he whispered, breathing faster and faster as sweat poured down his forehead.

_If he can't do it, we'll have to terminate the session. I can't have him fainting on me..._

Suddenly Mao's eyes snapped open. "...With these words the Witch fell down in a brown, melted, shapeless mass and began to spread over the clean boards of the kitchen floor. Seeing that she had really melted away to nothing, Dorothy drew another bucket of water and threw it over the mess. She then swept it all out the door. After picking out the silver shoe, which was all that was left of the old woman, she cleaned and dried it with a cloth, and put it on her foot again. Then, being at last free to do as she chose, she ran out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West had come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a strange land," he intoned dryly, repeating each word he heard it from the minds of the children in the room to his right. He had actually done it! He was only hearing their thoughts-no one else's.

_Excellent!_

"Perfect," Rosenkreutz said, making some notations on his clipboard. "Now-"

"-What was that?" Mao interjected.

"Hmm? Oh, the children were reading the _Wonderful Wizard of Oz_," the scientist explained. "Are you surprised that you could do it? Do you see that you have more control over this ability than you thought?"

Mao nodded sullenly.

_I wonder what Master V.V. intends to use him for, though?_

"Now do the same for the children in the room to your left," Rosenkreutz continued.

Mao took another deep breath, focusing his attention on blocking out the words from the _Wonderful Wizard of Oz _and allowing those from the other children in. "I felt so damn happy all of sudden, the way old Phoebe kept going around and around. I was damn near bawling, I felt so damn happy, if you want to know the truth. I don't know why..." Mao's voice faltered, losing focus.

"Keep going," Rosenkreutz urged.

"It's funny. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody," Mao finished, laying his head back into the chair wearily. He was surprised how draining the exertion had been. He still couldn't turn it off, but at least he didn't have to absorb everything all the time, as long as he focused.

"_The Catcher In the Rye_," Rosenkreutz explained. "Once again, excellent. You've passed the test."

"What now then?" Rolo spoke up, pushing off from the wall.

"Well I have to go over this data so _I _have nothing further planned for him today," Rosenkreutz replied absently, absorbed in his work.

_Glorious...just glorious_

"Fine then. We're leaving," Rolo said, indicating for Mao to stand to his feet and follow him, which he did, albeit wearily. "Keep up," he called over his shoulder.

"So you people just kidnap children off the street and...what? Experiment on them?" Mao said accusingly upon catching up with him. "Just like me."

_What does he care?_

"Like I said, this organization is helping you," Rolo replied.

"No," Mao countered. "They want to use me. Just like they're using you."

_Is he trying to manipulate me? V.V. warned he might get inside my head, try to confuse me_

Rolo's eyes narrowed, but he forced himself to continue facing forward. "Master V.V. gave me a purpose-"

"-What? To follow orders? To be a killer!" Mao demanded.

Rolo stopped, turning to face him slowly. "The work I take part in serves humanity. I can't possibly expect someone so single-minded as yourself to understand that."

"Have these children..." Mao hesitated. "Have they been given Geass?" he asked finally.

"Some of them," Rolo admitted casually.

At that moment, Mao lost it. With a snarl, he grabbed Rolo by the collar of his shirt and shoved him up roughly up against the wall. "You bastards!" he seethed, his face livid. "Are you just evil? Don't you understand what Geass does to you? How could you inflict that on...on children?"

Rolo didn't even flinch. "What do you think you're going to do?" he asked. "You understand that with a thought I can disentangle myself from your grip and then strangle you to death. I'm not the one who gives Geass. And its not forced. It's a contract, remember? You yourself once entered into this agreement. How old were _you_?"

"Six I think," Mao admitted, releasing Rolo as his hands fell limp to his sides.

"With this C.C. right?" Rolo asked.

Mao stared at him for a moment, finally turning away in disgust. "I don't expect someone like you to understand," he said finally.

"Good, you're angry. You can use that in your training," Rolo said, continuing his walk.

Mao followed behind begrudgingly, his mind a flurry of activity. He suddenly realized that this Order, this Project whose true purpose remained hidden from him, locked up as it was inside V.V.'s impenetrable mind, had to be stopped. Even if they _could _find C.C. for him, he couldn't allow what had happened to him be done to other children. He was cursed, forever separated from humanity. But he was also bound to C.C. and she to him. She was his one and only solace-the thing that made the agony of his journey bearable. But they had nothing. They had Rolo with his fake smiles and sparkling eyes, the Men In Robes with their calloused minds and insatiable curiosity, and V.V. with his eerie child likeness and mysterious plans for them.

Rolo led them to a long stretch of earth which Mao deduced to be a shooting range. He could see several rows of targets propped up at the far end as well as cabinets stocked with various firearms and ammunition.

Striding over towards one of the shelves, Rolo drew out a pair of earplugs and safety glasses, handing them to Mao who promptly applied them. He then took out a handgun, spun it on his fingers and handed it to Mao, who took it into his hands carefully. It weighed more than he had expected.

"You want me to..." Mao began.

"I've been instructed to teach you how to properly handle a firearm," Rolo explained. "This is standard practice. You do it like this. And you reload it like this," he ejected the magazine and slammed another one into place for effect. "You are to shoot the target."

Mao swallowed hard and raised the pistol into the air, pointing the barrel at the target across the range.

"Spread your weight, shoulders back. Aim for the center, straight down the barrel," Rolo interrupted. "Extend your arms completely. Squeeze the trigger."

Mao nodded, returning his attention to the target across the way, and began gently pressing his fingers down. Suddenly he heard the characteristic loud bang, the force of the round throwing his head backward unexpectedly as the barrel of the gun was knocked back.

"Don't close your eyes," Rolo scolded. "You hit the edge. It's a wonder you hit anything like that. Try again."

It went on like this for the rest of the day; Rolo handing Mao various types of firearms-pistols, rifles, shotguns, an occasional automatic. It seemed like he switched them out as soon as Mao started to feel like he might get the hang of it. He was getting marginally better overall though, his groupings tighter and more consistent. Even a lucky bullseye here and there.

After a while, Rolo handed him a canteen. "Here, drink this," he said.

Mao took it gratefully, guzzling down the cool water. "Thanks," he managed.

_Master V.V. said to reach out and befriend him. Just play the part. Seems to have settled down now, taken some of the stress out on the range.  
_

"You know..." Rolo hesitated. "When I first came to the Project I was just like you-unsure, even a little afraid."

Mao's eyes narrowed.

"But they won't hurt you, I promise," Rolo continued. "We'll teach you how to live a normal life. With your incredible ability, you can help out in all sorts of ways. And then C.C. will come here and everything will be alright," he finished with a smile.

"-Don't even bother. It's too insulting," Mao interrupted. "You can't play with me like you do 'your children'. Or did you already forget I know what you're thinking? You're an emotionless killer. Every smile practiced, every shy shrug thought out. You can't be anyone's friend, least of all mine."

Rolo's eyes narrowed, his face returning to its usual stare. "Very well then. I think we're done for today. Why don't you retire to your quarters for the night. There'll be more training tomorrow."

"Oh I'm sure there will," Mao said bitterly, turning to leave. Up ahead, however, he spotted V.V., his small feet gliding across the polished floors, surrounded by a coterie of robe-wearing scientists and mystics who hung on his every word.

"V.V.!" Mao shouted, running towards the boy as he felt his rage renew inside him.

"W-Wait!" Rolo called out, taken by surprise as he took off after his charge.

"Ah, hello there," V.V. greeted cheerfully as Mao came before him. "How is your training progressing? Rosenkreutz and Aleister inform me that your progress is so rapid you should be ready within the month. I've even been told by Engineering that they've designed a cybernetic device which could give you complete control over your powers via insertion into your brain. But who can say with those dreamers, right?"

"Never mind that!" Mao demanded. "Why did you do it? Why did you give Geass to children? Don't you understand what it will turn them into?"

"What?" V.V. feigned. "Did you forget that Geass is like a wish?"

"A wish?" Mao repeated, confused.

"The form which Geass takes follows the desires of your heart," V.V. explained. "The contract is inviolable and must be fulfilled. All the _other _children understand this."

Mao looked down at his hands in frustration, unsure of what he could do, his raw anger diffusing.

"Rolo, bring Henson here would you. He'll show Mao," V.V. instructed. "Be quick."

Rolo was gone in the blink of an eye, while Mao racked his brains trying to remember which one 'Henson' was.

"Have you found C.C. yet?" Mao ventured, his voice a mixture of hopefulness and dread.

"Not just yet," V.V. answered. "You know, it's funny though. Why don't you think more about how she left you? I mean, here you are wandering around looking for her, when _she left you_. I don't think she wants anything to do with you anymore, Mao. She used and discarded you-you're certainly not the first."

Mao's face became livid and he noticed he was shaking. "That's not true! I'm special! I'm the only one for C.C. She's just...confused. We're gonna be together forever!" he blurted out.

V.V. smiled devilishly. "So that's it then, hmm?" he said proudly. "Don't worry-we'll have her soon. Then she'll be all yours."

Mao shook his head fearfully.

_I hope V.V. knows what he's doing, bringing Henson here like this_

At that moment, Rolo returned with the boy apparently called Henson who held his hand firmly. He was thin, dressed in simple clothes with an even haircut.

"There you are, Henson," V.V. greeted enthusiastically. "I want you to show this young man what you can do, alright?"

_Ooh, somebody else to play with?_

Henson nodded excitedly. "Shuwa," he replied, which Mao presumed meant 'sure'.

"Mao, bow before me," V.V. ordered dramatically, to which Henson began giggling.

"You must be joking!" Mao spat. "I would never-"

The boy's eye lit up, overtaken by a swirling phoenix. With a deft motion, he outstretched his frail arm and pointed down with his fingers. Suddenly, Mao's knees buckled and he fell to the floor prostrate before V.V. The immortal child began laughing haughtily, placing his foot on Mao's platinum head for effect.

"How...can this be? How are you doing this to me?" Mao struggled, caught completely in the grasp of some invisible force.

"I made a contract with Henson you see," V.V. explained. "His wish was to always have someone to play with. So I gave him just that."

"Rolo!' Mao called out desperately, his eye straining toward the young man. "Don't you see? They're using you-_all_ of you. You're just a tool to him. But you don't have to be. You could be more than this. Help me-stop them!"

_More manipulation? I am just a tool. But I already know that. Helping him won't change a thing. This Project is my life...I grew up here_

Rolo stared down at the young man without guilt. "I know what you're trying to do," he replied firmly. "It won't work. My loyalty is clear."

"Henson, why don't you 'walk' Mao back to his bed. I'm sure Rolo can lead the way," V.V. told the boy playfully.

_That'll be fun!_

Following the boy's irresistible orders as he moved his two little fingers, Mao stood to his feet mechanically and marched back onto the streets, following Rolo towards his bedroom in one of the towers hanging over the City.

Finally released from the boy's hold and given some privacy at last, Mao stumbled into his room and slammed his fist into the wall in frustration. Taking several deep breaths, Mao closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts.

"I need a plan," he muttered. "There has to be a way out of here. Most of them live here, but what about the guests? They have to be transported in and out. But Rolo! I have to find a way to neutralize him. How do you beat someone who can stop time? But without him, V.V.'s as good as defenseless. The other Geass users are far too inexperienced to pose much of a threat."

At the moment, they could easily kill him, Mao knew that. He would just have to watch and wait. "'Play the part', Rolo said?" Mao mused with a smile. "Alright, then."


	9. Cunning Mao: Escape From the Directorate

**Recommended Music:** **"The Game Has Changed" by _Daft Punk _from the _Tron Legacy Soundtrack_, "Ruiran no Roukaku" by Saituo Tsuney from the _xxxHolic Soundtrack_, followed by "Violator" by Nobuo Uematsu from the _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Soundtrack_, followed by "Divinity II" from the same.**

* * *

_**Cunning Mao**_

**(Escape From the Directorate)**

"How long have I been here?," Mao muttered to himself as pulled on his coat, staring out the window of his quarters down at the streets of the dark City. What made it difficult was the fact that here in this strange place there was no day, no night. No rising or setting of the sun to help him keep time. It was one long bad dream, broken up by bursts of sleep here and there. He would wake up, meet Rolo or one of the other Geass users for further training, go to the Men In Robes for more tests and experiments, do endurance exercises, go to the shooting range, all the while kept stable by regular injections of RF-442. It served to keep him exhausted, almost too exhausted to think of a way out. _Almost_... He carefully checked the device hidden beneath his shirt, making sure its wire didn't stretch past his cuffs and its shape didn't show through his reflection. He had taken it from one of the medical labs during an unsupervised moment, writing into the book that it had been 'taken for repairs'. All part of the plan he had been working on for who knows how long. And as far as he could tell, today was the day.

"It has to work," he muttered, his headphones hanging idly around his neck. He slid his hand into his pocket, checking the remote control switch.

"Mao," a soft voice said, causing him to jump a little as he retracted his hand from his pocket. It was him. Close by. He had suddenly appeared right beside him. The trick of his Geass. He was reminding him how easy it would be to kill him lest he think of threatening the Project.

"Why so scared, today?" Rolo asked, his tone slightly taunting.

"What is it?" Mao asked, turning towards him. He had been careful to be more congenial with the young man assigned to watch and restrain him, should he get out of line. He was merely letting him think that his time at the Project had made him need to reach out to someone. And who better than the greatest obstacle to his escape, Rolo.

"You're being assigned your first mission. It seems you'll be transferred into an intelligence capacity," Rolo replied.

"Intelligence?" Mao repeated. It was half question, half resignation.

_A spy_

"Of course," Mao nodded. "You people want me to be your spy."

"Your Geass makes you the perfect agent for this task," Rolo acknowledged. "General Bartley's decision though, not mine."

"He is the Directorate's...'military liaison'," Mao said, probing the young man's mind.

"He assigns graduates of the Project to covert positions abroad. Somewhere they can be useful to the interests of the Empire," Rolo elaborated. "I, myself, am stationed in the Office of Secret Intelligence. Of course, our primary loyalty is still to the Order."

"And you don't know what this mission is?" Mao read aloud.

"Of course not. The details of our missions are always kept strictly secret," Rolo confirmed. "Anyways, come with me."

Mao nodded, following the young man toward the central Grottoes. As he walked, he allowed his mind to wander. It had become helpful in determining what was going on around him, keeping him alert and aware. He had learned many interesting things that people didn't talk about openly. For example, the fact that there was a device hidden in the lower layers of the complex which the researchers who worked on it referred to as a 'Thought Elevator' and which served as the primary reason behind the Directorate's location. Or the fact that a powerful emergency shuttle system snaked out from the City for hundreds of miles leading back to civilization. And then there was the fact that outside of the facility, only the Emperor himself and a select few of his children even knew of the Project's existence. All this he had been taking in, mulling over in his mind as he thought about how to take them down. Several things had fallen into place now, and Mao could only hope that everything went according to plan.

_Another glorious day! _

_"Welcome, General. Wonderful to see you again."  
_

_Welcome, General. Wonderful to see you again. "You all as well. Could you please take me to see the Director?"_

_You all as well. Could you please take me to the Director? "Yes, my lord."_

_Yes my lord... The perfect spy, eh? We'll see..._

_Unlimited resources at my disposal, limitless time to pursue studies my colleagues on the outside would laugh at, and a coterie of enthusiastic mystics who share my passion... With an Adept himself to guide me!_

Mao raised an eyebrow. They were nearing their destination now. The same place the General was headed.

_"Haha, you're 'it'!"_

_"What, no fair!"_

_But traversing that World has proven dangerous to our top researchers. It appears to require a certain mental mastery..._

_Watch this!_

_"Hold still."_

_It's all based on thought_

_The sigil appears again here in this structure dated to within four centuries earlier... What can it all mean? Who built this?  
_

_"I assure you the Sword is stable."_

_"It had better be-the Emperor himself will be arriving."_

_"The Emperor is coming?"_

_"Not here-**there**"_

_"Prime the Elevator..."_

_"The test results are..how should I put it? Inconclusive..."_

Mao and Rolo entered the Grotto, making their way through the grounds to the stone steps which led up to Director V.V.'s chair. It was empty, however, but before they could turn around they heard a familiar voice say, "Hello gentlemen. Looking for me?"

Mao whirled around, completely startled as the hairs on his neck stood up. _No one_ could sneak up on him. No one except C.C. It was that damned blonde haired brat! He stared at the boy whose mind rang out in complete silence. He was surrounded by an entourage of the Men In Robes, as usual. Their veneration for the Immortal was sickening, like a medieval sorcerer who conjures a demon to ply it for questions to sate his curiosity only to have it devour them whole.

_Is he really fit for duty?_

_He still looks off..._

_Something's definitely __**wrong **__with him_

_That isn't the look of a sane person..._

_Wasn't he taken from an asylum? Good grief!_

"Director," Rolo greeted, unfazed. "After several weeks of intensive training, I can say that Mao has been...adequately cooperative and is ready for active duty."

"Is that so?" V.V. said slowly.

_Short and simple... I can't afford to tarry long. The transport is waiting for me_

Coming within view from behind one of the many pillars positioned throughout the Grottoes, General Bartley approached the group, dressed in full Britannian military regalia. He was a portly man who obviously had been off the battlefield for some time now, with a balding head and a single monocle over his eye.

"Greetings, Director V.V.," the General announced, bowing.

"You as well, General," V.V. replied turning towards the new arrival. "How goes the campaign?"

"Better in some Areas than in others, I'm afraid," the General replied with a practiced chuckle.

"Well that's why I think you'll find our newest graduate particularly promising," the boy ventured.

"Yes, yes," Bartley nodded vigorously. "Show me this telepathy of yours, will you?" he said, addressing Mao. His voice sounded like he had expected it would.

"Think of a number between 1 and 10," Mao said after a moment.

_7_

"Alright," the General replied.

Mao lifted his hands, three fingers extended into the air on the right with four on the left.

"Incredible!" Bartley exclaimed, greatly enthused. "But I'm told you also can penetrate the subconscious. Is that true?"

"You once had a wife named Alice, you enlisted in the military before you were legally old enough by lying about your age and you've never made love to anyone as you are...'functionally asexual'," Mao obeyed, narrating a list of details only someone who knew him intimately could possibly relate.

The General's face paled. "I-I-I see what you mean, Director," he managed, stuttering. He turned toward V.V. and knelt down to whisper something in his ear.

_"Are you sure he can be relied upon though? Can he really be trusted?" Relax, General. We have him under control. "Well, if you say so..." But remember that he knows everything you're saying to me right now. "What? Oh, of course!"_

General Bartley stood to his feet, turning towards Mao and Rolo. "Son, that gift of yours could be a great help to us," he said, his voice dry with age. Suddenly, however, his hand reached for his breast pocket and he drew out a mobile phone, vibrating with an audible buzz.

"Bartley," he greeted into the receiver. "Is this urgent? I'm in the middle of something right now and-oh my deepest apologies, sir."

Mao couldn't hear any thoughts or words on the other end, but he could hear what was being said repeated in the General's mind.

_A young woman, wearing a long brown dress with a hat was caught in an explosion near Nagoya-Chubu Centrair Airport in Area 11 and found deceased by a Britannian convoy who shockingly witnessed her regain consciousness and kill several soldiers. As she fled, she was shot in the back of the head, however, dropping her to the ground. Moments later she revived and was shot again in the ensuing struggle. Taken into military custody, she is in the process of being transferred to a secured facility in Area 11. Her distinguishing characteristic is green hair._

Mao's eyes went wide, but he quickly suppressed his reaction. It was her! It had to be. C.C. had been captured! Whatever hesitation Mao had felt about his plan evaporated, replaced by a firm resolution. He was going to save her. Had to.

"-What?" the General exclaimed. "Are you certain of this?"

_"I am, Bartley. Return to Area 11 at once. I'll have everything prepared for your arrival. I'm already putting a team together to handle this and I want you at its head."  
_

"Of course, my lord," the General finished, closing the mobile and returning it to his breast pocket. He turned toward V.V., adopting a low, hushed tone.

"_Clovis believes he has captured that girl you spoke of. I intend to return there at once to firmly identify her. If a match can be determined, should I arrange for her to be brought here once we are finished?"_

V.V. raised an eyebrow, watching Mao from the corner of his lavender eye. "Not just yet. The Lady C.C. has eluded our capture for some time now. We need to understand her intentions first, such as what her business was in Area 11 to begin with. Bringing her here could be playing right into her hands. It's possible she may actually have turned herself in for _him_, as bait," he replied, indicating Mao discreetly. "Return immediately and keep her secured there. I will soon go there as well."

It took every ounce of effort for Mao to suppress the rage he felt right then.

_If those imbeciles lose her..._

"Yes, my lord," General Bartley replied. Turning towards Mao he said, "Well, the shuttle is waiting to carry us off base. I'm sure you're eager to get out there again. We have an airtight cover story all planned out for you."

"Yes, sir," Mao replied eagerly. After taking a few steps, however, he turned slowly back toward Rolo, however, and took a step forward.

_What's he doing?_

"Rolo," Mao began, quickly noting V.V.'s position out of the corner of his eye. He had to be careful not to let the wire touch his skin as he gently loosed it down into his palm. No one had noticed that his characteristic silk gloves had been replaced with a pair of rubber ones today. "I know we weren't exactly the best of friends, but around here you were the closest thing to it, so...till we meet again, take care," Mao managed with a smile, extending his hand. He was using Rolo's move right back at him.

_Friends? Is this a show for General Bartley's sake?_

Though a little confused by the display, Rolo extended a hand, gripping that of Mao's. Immediately, he realized his mistake, however, as a powerful electric shock racked his body.

_-I can't believe I-  
_

His hair stood up on end as his knees buckled. The force of the shock would have thrown him backward instantly except Mao held him there, gripping his hand firmly to make sure he went down. Rolo lost all feeling and fell to the floor unconscious, finally released from Mao's hold.

A surge of gasps escaped the throats all around the room. But Mao's other hand had not been idle. Before anyone could react, there was a deafening boom echoing off the stone walls as he fired his pistol, the round directed into V.V.'s forehead, his blood painting the colonnade behind him. He shot several more times into the boy's chest-just to be sure he would have the time he needed.

_He's got a gun!_

_Get out of my way, you fool!_

_I don't want to die!_

_Somebody help!_

_"What is going on?"  
_

The Men In Robes fled in terror, screaming at the top of their lungs. They weren't soldiers, after all.

At last Mao turned his attention to General Bartley who stared aghast at the two bodies splayed out across the floor. His guards and soldiers were not permitted into the facility, after all.

"He can't use his Geass if his heart is already stopped," Mao muttered, dropping the defibrillator from under his shirt. It hit the floor and broke apart, sending tiny pieces everywhere.

The color drained from the General's face. "What are you going to do?" he asked fearfully.

Mao strode towards him carefully. "_You're_ going to miss your trip, I'm afraid," he explained, quickly whipping the pistol upside his bald head. He fell to the ground like a sack of rocks, his monocle shattering upon impact.

Stepping over the bodies, Mao hurried into the elevator, descending down to the transit level. Now running, he climbed into the shuttle and quickly checked the monitor, setting the route to Beijing. He threw the accelerator forward, the powerful magnetic rail sending him hurtling through the tunnel at lightning speeds before Mao could even seal the door shut completely.

"And now for my next trick," Mao announced to himself with a laugh as he pulled out the remote control, turning the knob all the way. Though he couldn't see or hear it from this far out, he could just picture the massive explosion and ensuing complete blackout as the power plant he had rigged overloaded. They would be crippled, unable to pursue him for the time being. Mao waited as he felt the shuttle gradually shut down until at last it came to a complete stop. He wasn't exactly certain how much of the tunnel remained to traverse, but he slid the door open and hopped out into the musty air to finish the trip. It was still completely dark so he probably had at least a mile or so to go, he thought.

Mao smiled as he fit his headphones over his ears and turned up the volume to his battery-powered player. It was just him and C.C. now, as he trudged through the darkness.

_Are you having fun, Mao?_

He never did spot any light, but eventually he felt a flow of air and stopped, following it to a small stairway topped by a steel door.

"Free at last," Mao muttered as he carefully slid the door open and stepped into the other side. It was night time, he realized as his eyes adjusted. There was another small stairway which led up into a lobby of sorts.

_Just another day on the job..._

_What the hell are we even guarding anyway? A private subway for crying out loud?_

_Shouldn't the General have returned by now? It's getting late  
_

From a simple sweep, Mao deduced they were at a secret station discreetly called Pintu Gerbang, used for transporting high profile guests to and from the Geass Directorate this side of the desert, occupied by a small staff of guards who had no idea what they were guarding. The General's party was waiting outside, growing more impatient by the hour and near ready to call in a security breach.

Taking a deep breath, Mao pondered his options. There was only one way out of this building. Finally he ran up the stairs and out to the General's men, his face frantic. All heads turned his way, as the guards raised their rifles in confusion.

"Officer!" Mao called out in a panic. "You have to come quick!"

_Who the hell?_

_...dressed like that?_

_The General said he would be returning with one other... Is this him?_

_Is he for real?_

"What's going on here," the commanding officer, Anthony by name, demanded.

"There was power failure in the tunnel. The General's been injured and he can't move!" Mao explained quickly, waving his arms around for effect. "You need to get your men in there right now to carry him out."

_What?_

_Awful!_

_Dammit!_

Suddenly there was a scramble of activity as the officers rushed to grab lighting equipment and headed for the rail tunnel.

"Come in here and show us where," Anthony ordered Mao.

After a second's hesitation, Mao collapsed in a fit of dramatic coughing, sucking in several deep breaths for effect. "I've been running...I just need to take a moment," he wheezed.

Anthony raised an eyebrow. "He's just outside the door right?" he asked as he rushed down the stairwell to lead his men.

Mao nodded weakly.

"Alright, men, move in!" Anthony shouted, bounding down the stairs into the dark tunnel, followed closely by his men; off to rescue their General.

Mao wasted no time in taking off as soon as they were out of sight, dashing in and out of winding alleyways, trying to put the most distance between himself and them in as short a time as possible.

He needed a place to spend the night. Somewhere he could allow his body to flush their drugs out of his system. But he wasn't going to make the same mistake again. He would stay at the nicest room he could find. He realized now that they wouldn't expect someone on the run to stay somewhere expensive and the extra security might slow down his pursuers given their emphasis on discreetness. At the very least he wouldn't suffer a repeat of last time and be caught off guard again.

When at last he found such an establishment, he quickly paid out the large sum to rent a room, ascending the stairs and collapsing in his bed, utterly exhausted.

What followed for the young man was an intense, painful detoxification period, during which his body learned to live without its newfound chemical dependency. The agony was almost unbearable.

He didn't leave the bed for two days straight. But on the third day, he rose and went to purchase some breakfast, looking utterly exhausted, like he had just fought and lost the greatest battle of his life. But he had won!

_"Mao! Mao, are you awake? How are you?," _the voice crooned excitedly.

"Good to be alive," Mao muttered with a small smile as he ate his breakfast. He wasn't joking.

Making his way back to the suite, he peeled off his clothes and turned on the bath, letting it fill with steaming, warm water. Now naked, he strode to the phone and paused, unsure of how to operate it. One of the buttons was labeled 'help' and so he pressed it.

"_Yes, how can I help you?_" a cheerful voice asked. _Glad I just got back from break..._

"Uh…this is Floor C, Suite 002," Mao replied. "I was wondering if someone could come take my clothes to be washed."

"_Of course, right away,"_ the voice assured him. _"Just leave them in a basket outside the door. It won't take long at all." Good, something easy..._

Pleased, Mao did as she said, leaving them in a pile by the door, with the money and ring removed from their pockets.

Stepping carefully into the warm pool, he sank down to his knees and lay back, the water reaching his neck as it washed away the grime from his captivity. It was such a pleasant feeling. He set the player on the rim so it wouldn't fall into the water below and closed his eyes.

_"Mao…_," the voice whispered. "_Don't be sad. Please."_

Mao had always enjoyed bathing together with C.C. in the cool lake of their idyllic world. When he was younger, he would play games with her, splashing her playfully or swimming around in circles with the fish, daring her to catch him, much to C.C.'s chagrin. Afterwards, unwilling to risk degrading their only clothes, they would trudge up the shore and find a shaded thicket to lie together in the sun for awhile and dry off. He always felt so peaceful like that, listening to the breeze as he clung to her soft flesh. He would ask her all kinds of questions; about the about, the world, about feelings, people, the questions becoming more complex the older he became. Sometimes C.C. would throw her arms up in surrender, not knowing the answers to Mao's relentless curiosity. But they were the deepest moments of intimacy he knew…at least, until he grew, when he became interested in an _even deeper _level, and those moments adopted even greater significance.

"I need to find a viable means of transport, go to Area 11 and discover where C.C.'s being held and _who_ is holding her. After learning that, I should be able to formulate a plan of how to get her out of there," he muttered. "But how did they find out about her? Did she really spend time with those awful people? What do they want with her?" The questions seemed unending as the mysteries surrounding his beloved and the nature of this power he bore deepened. It was the answers that were proving far too elusive.


	10. Flying Mao

**Music Recommendation: "This Is Gallifrey; Our Childhood, Our Home" by Murray Gold from the _Doctor Who Soundtrack 2, _followed by "Madder Sky" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the _Code Geass R2 Soundtrack__  
_**

* * *

**_Flying Mao_**

Mao's eyes fluttered open as he realized he had fallen asleep, lulled by the warm waves gently breaking against his body. Dripping wet, he stood to his feet and reached for a towel, drying with the soft fabric and stepping out onto the inlaid tile.

Retrieving his clothes from a basket laid outside the door, he dressed and checked the time, walking over to the computer provided by the hotel. "Time to make a few preparations," he muttered as he sat down and placed his hands on the keyboard.

For a moment, he contemplated how he would actually _get there_. "Flying would be the fastest method… ," he muttered to himself. As volatile as Area 11 was, Britannia was wary of suspicious travelers, especially from the Chinese Federation who had sought to annex Japan for decades. "The airports would be too risky," he decided. "And likely under surveillance by the Directorate."

Looking down at his hands, he realized he didn't know how to use the device before him. "There's no manual," Mao muttered, looking around. He had learned that when people needed information, they looked it up on the computer, but he and C.C. had never had one. Out of other options, he paged the help desk again.

_Ugh, not even a moment's peace!_

"_Hello, this is the help desk. How may I help you,"_ the voice answered cheerfully.

"I was wondering if you could send someone to my room and show me how to use this computer," Mao explained. "I'm on floor C, Suite 002."

_He doesn't know how to use the computer? What kind of sheltered life has he been living… These old money types are so useless_

The woman suppressed a laugh. _"Of course, I'll send someone right away." _Prices were so high here, that hotel staff were trained to take care of almost everything for their clients.

Mao shook his head in disgust at her duplicity, terminating the connection.

After a few moments, there was a knock on the door, and Mao let a young man in, who was taken aback for a moment by his striking appearance.

_I wonder who he is? He's so…gorgeous. And those clothes!_

Walking over to the computer, the man indicated how to turn on the monitor. "Now, what do you want do?" he asked.

"I want to look a few things up," Mao explained carefully.

"Right, so what you do is click here," the man explained, bringing up a window titled, 'BigLobe'. "From there, you can search for anything you need to know, even specify pictures, videos, audio, news and such by typing it in with this keyboard."

Mao smiled, glad something turned out simple.

"So is that all you needed, sir?" the young man asked.

_I wonder if he'll tip me?_

Mao smiled. "Yes, that's all." He slid his hand into his pocket, drawing out thirty or so yuan. "But please, take this."

A large smile spread across the man's face as he eagerly took the money. "T-Thank you very much, good sir," he stammered as he took his leave.

_Straight to the bar for me tomorrow!_

Alone once more, Mao ran a search concerning 'airplane laws'. As he scanned the results, he came to learn that civilians were allowed to purchase aircraft classified under both Chinese and Britannian law as "light", recreational planes with speed and power significantly below that of commercial and military transports, which required strict licensing and registry to operate. "So if I fly a light experimental, I can avoid any legal attention. But the power capacity prevents it from traveling very far, certainly not all the way to Area 11… However, if I modify it," he muttered. "I might be able to attach a more powerful battery to make the trip… and the plane flies below radar as well. Nonetheless, I'd have to land somewhere to blend in. Numbers aren't allowed to own private aircraft, so I need to avoid those areas…"

He then searched for events in Area 11 concerning airplanes, scanning the results and dates carefully. "What luck!" Mao exclaimed as he found an advertisement. "In two days, a large event for recreational aircraft enthusiasts is being held near the resort of Lake Kawaguchi. If I fly under the radar, I can slip into the parade and land nearby, seemingly one of the pilots. That means I should reserve a suite somewhere close by where C.C.'s being held so we can escape on the plane but…I still don't where she is." Narrowing down his search criteria, he browsed a list of hotels and checked for nearby private storage large enough to hide a plane. "In the concession area of the Tokyo Settlement, then," Mao decided. "That means…I just have to find an airplane. Stealing one would be impractical, so I'll have to buy one. Or…", a smile spread across Mao's face. "I could avoid this boring legal stuff altogether and just win it from one of the idiots around here."

Satisfied with his plan thus far, Mao closed the window and turned off the monitor. Securing the door behind him, he descended the staircase to the spacious lobby below. According to the display, the casino took up an entire floor.

Following the signs, he ascended the escalator the enormous gambling hall. He blinked several times; pained by bright artificial lighting he wasn't used to and quickly donned his visor.

He looked around for a moment, searching for a venue. It was the kind of place where thousands were won or lost in a single hand. Nothing like the backwater bar he had played at last. Here, multiple bars stretched the length of the floor, serving expensive liquors and cocktails, and scattered throughout the room were hundreds of tables at which cigar-smoking noblemen gambled with cards, dice, or chips. Scantily clad waitresses paraded around the room, some dancing seductively for the amusement of onlookers.

"I have no advantage in mechanical games," Mao mused as he eyed the roulette wheel and slot machines, searching for diverse game of cards instead. He strolled through the frenzied crowds for some time, searching their minds for someone who owned an airplane that met his requirements. Without C.C.'s voice gently encouraging him in his ears and the training he had received from V.V.'s stooges, Mao never would have been able to stand all these minds this long. It made it so hard just to concentrate. At last he found a man, and came to a large table, still filling up with players waiting for a new game to start. Taking a seat in the plush velvet, he nodded to the men seated around him and folded his hands together with a disarming smile.

"Let's play," he said in a husky voice.

* * *

The man, Sun Lao, stared aghast at his cards, his lip quivering in disbelief. This was a slick Chinese business executive, after all, always used to things 'going his way'.

"Impossible," he muttered, staring at the pair of shiny keys glinting in the middle of the table amidst a pool of money, at least eight hundred thousand or so yuan. This was serious money and Mao knew he had no doubt his wife was going to kill him.

Mao had easily won almost every round, except those chance forced him to fold on—which he did so without any risk since he knew before any play had been made what everyone had. When a rematch was angrily demanded, Mao baited him by claiming to be uninterested in any more money.

"_Well, there are other things, we could offer_," _the irate man suggested like a drug addict desperate to sate his fix. This was exactly why Mao had singled him out-he couldn't stand to lose. And he always had enough for just 'one more hand'.  
_

"_You know_, _I've always wanted an airplane—one of those light experimental ones to fly around in," Mao mused absently for effect._

"_I-I have one of those!" Sun Lao stammered excitedly the, to Mao, obvious and fetching its keys from his pocket to pledge them. "It's got a short take off roll, dual controls, ICOM radio, electric brakes, three position half span flaps, electric trim, and a set of VFR instruments. I'll even throw in a GPS navigation box."_

"_Really?" Mao feigned. "Who would've known?"_

"A pleasure," Mao said as he slid his hands before him and gathered up the hoard.

Sun Lao looked around desperately, but every other player had already left.

_Dammit! I should've folded when I had the chance!_

"You can have it delivered to the lot down the street—the vacant one," Mao goaded.

_Ugh, I need a drink_

"Tomorrow morning," the man agreed glumly, rising to head for the bar. His wife was definitely going to do him in first chance she got.

Grinning, Mao checked the time. However, his grin faded when he saw how many hours had passed. "Damn, I have to get some rest," he muttered. "Tomorrow is the day."

As he made his way back across the floor, two burly men approached him. They looked handsome and friendly, except for the fact that Mao knew they were concealing submachine guns under their suits.

_This the guy?_

_Troublemaker..._

"Sir, we're gonna have to ask you to leave," the taller one asked.

"Why? I'm winning!" Mao remarked proudly.

"That's the point," the younger one interjected, his stone-hard voice the complete opposite of Mao's exuberance. "We're getting a lot of complaints about you. Now we're not looking to cause trouble or accuse anybody-it would just look bad for the establishment. So take your winnings and go. But that's it. Don't come back here again."

"Well, no one likes a sore loser I suppose," Mao teased with a wave of his gloved hand, walking off.

_Smug bastard…_

_I give you three seconds to wipe that stupid grin off your face  
_

* * *

Mao wiped the sweat from his forehead, setting the wrench down upon the pavement. "That should do it," he muttered as he slid out from underneath the craft, his back laying on a cart. Standing to his feet, he smiled as he looked over his new airplane.

The craft had been begrudgingly delivered in the morning and Mao had to make a trip to the hardware store to get the necessary tools to modify it to suit his needs.

Working for several hours, he had added a larger, much more powerful battery and a hand crank alongside the front seat with longer coils. "To transfer power to the main battery, I'll just put the crank in my lap," he mused, proud of his rig.

Dragging out a bucket of light blue paint, he took out a brush and went over its body in long, precise strokes. "This should help it to blend in better with the sky a bit, preventing a random sighting from the shore," he muttered.

Another hour passed, and Mao resealed the bucket, sliding it away. Running a hand through this platinum hair absently, he noticed a salty trail of sweat cascading down his mauve shirt. He pulled it away from his body wearily.

_"Don't worry, Mao. I won't die. I live on through you. We are one_," C.C.'s voice said reassuringly.

Walking over to the cockpit, Mao perused the manual. It sounded fairly simple—to accelerate, push forward on the throttle, to adjust the angle, move the yoke," he read.

Confident, his thoughts turned to other matters. "Where will we go afterward?" he asked no one in particular. He honestly hadn't thought of it before now, so focused on just getting C.C. back.

Using the socket wrench to remove the nose wheels from the plane so it wouldn't get stolen, he walked back to the lobby and made his way into the elevator. Inputting floor C, his feet exited onto richly textured carpet and he unlocked the door to Suite 002.

"I don't have much time," he muttered as he turned on the computer and entered a few search terms into the window. "We can't return to China, it's too risky… We can't go to Britannia, they might just try to recapture her…" As he was pondering this dilemma, he came across an article, "Oceania says 'NO' to request for Britannian military base". As he read farther down, he came across another, much older article which was back linked to it, "Japan decries Oceanian neutrality amidst tensions with Britannia".

"Oceania?" Mao repeated. Looking over the pages, he became excited. "A bunch of islands!" As he read further, he quickly determined that Australia was the largest mass of land Oceania had and much of it was undeveloped.

Narrowing down his search criteria further, he found a site advertising property in Australia. The more he read, the more it attracted him—sandy white beaches, rugged outback, windswept plains, tropical rainforests, lush woodlands, mangrove swamps—and then he found it, a beautiful white cottage surrounded by several hectares of wild farmland in the subtropical region of Eastern Territory. Mao's eyes sparkled excitedly as he pictured it. "C.C. and I could live there for the rest of my life. We'd have a real house! And it would be quiet—oh, so quiet! And there's so much land-we could even start a huge garden together!" he beamed. He already couldn't wait to take C.C. there. "But, I suppose I should buy it first…ah, here it is."

Taking up the phone, he dialed the number. It rang a few times and then connected, a cheerful, "Hello?" sounding on the line.

"Is this...Victoria then?" Mao inquired, reading the name from the site.

"Y-Yes, it is," the woman stammered, taken aback at being called her first name by a complete stranger. "Who is this?"

"I'm interested in the property you've advertised for sale, the one in Eastern Territory, Australia.

"Alright…what did you wish to know about it?" Victoria asked carefully.

"No, I'm interested in purchasing it," Mao clarified.

"Well…how much would you like to pay?" she replied uncertainly.

Mao paused, taken aback. "You-You're asking me, 'how much I _want_ to pay'?" he stammered. Not that he was an expert in real estate transactions, but something didn't seem quite right here.

"Sir, honestly, I can't believe you called," Victoria admitted. "I inherited that land from my grandfather. I didn't need it and didn't really know what to do with it so I had a deluxe cottage built there, thinking I could sell it. But everyone complains that it's too remote."

"Well, remote is exactly what I'm looking for," Mao said quickly.

"Really…well did you have any special requirements?" the woman asked, gaining interest.

"Does it have a bed?" Mao asked.

"Um, yes it has several," Victoria replied, now herself taken aback.

"Well, we only need one. Does it even have…running water?" Mao continued, becoming more excited, as his voice rose to a giddy pitch.

"Uh…yes, of course," she replied, becoming more incredulous.

"Alright! That's all I need," Mao replied confidently. "So how does seven hundred...eighty thousand yuan sound?" he said, looking through the stack of bills he had won off of Sun Lao.

"It sounds...great. Um, I mean fine. I'll have the property prepared and the deed ready," Victoria replied, her voice betraying her gratitude. "When will you be arriving so I can show you the grounds and answer any other questions you might..?"

"-Well…I'm not sure. I have a few other things I have to take care of first, but I wanted to be certain it would be available," Mao replied carefully and slowly. "A month at the most. I pay in person."

"Will do, then. I'll take down the advertisement. Pleasure doing business with you Mr...?," Victoria assured him.

"It's…Mao. And you too," Mao replied, not knowing what else to say.

With that, Mao hung up the phone and took a breath from the awkward conversation. Polite social interaction really wasn't his thing. "How interesting it is to talk to someone and _not_ know what they're _really _thinking," he mused.

Walking over to the window, he peered out the blind at the plane parked in the vacant lot down the street. "I suppose I can't put it off any longer… It's time to leave," he muttered. Honestly, he was a bit frightened by the prospect of flying.

His temperature cooled, he applied a bout of sun screen, gently rubbing it into his face, and gathered up his coat and visor. He proceeded to make the bed, fold the towels, and return the chairs to their places. Exiting the room, he again took the elevator and stepped out into the lobby. Returning the keys to the main desk, he checked out and left, finding himself once more on the trampled streets of Beijing; only now, it was overcast and he could sense rain coming on.

He made his way over to the vacant lot holding his plane and, taking out a socket wrench, reattached the nose wheels, giving it a final look over for any problems. "Well, then," Mao announced as he climbed into the cockpit. "I'm coming to rescue you C.C.!" Sealing the chamber, he inserted the keys into the ignition and started the engine. It was a smooth, clear sound, evidence of a well made craft he had heard.

_Is that a plane over there?_

He sat there for a moment, fascinated by all the different switches and dials, of which he only had a faint understanding of their purposes. But that didn't matter to Mao. He was going to fly to Area 11, defeat Britannia and rescue his beloved C.C.. They would fly off into the sunset and leave the noisy world of wickedness and misery behind forever, finding their comfort in each other, as they always had.

Following the manual, he set the heading indicator to match the compass and adjusted the flaps. Placing his right hand on the throttle, his left hand on the steering yoke and his feet against the rudder petals, he pushed the throttle hard.

The plane drove forward, gaining speed. But before he knew it, he was reaching the end of the lot. "Damn," he cursed as he pressed his feet in, turning the craft hard, and braked.

_Who in the world? He must be crazy. "Here, take my hand."_

Once again, he pushed the throttle forward, accelerating the plane forward. Quickly he pulled back on the yoke to lift the nose wheel off the ground, but it was too soon, and the plane's nose came down hard, its wheel screeching in protest on the pavement. "Argh! How do I get this thing up there?" Mao shouted in frustration.

_Don't they know that's dangerous?_

He wheeled around again, trying to give himself enough distance and pushed the throttle forward. Carefully, he eased back on the yoke, lifting the nose wheel off the ground. The plane began to pull to the left, so he pressed his feet into the right rudder petal, stabilizing the angle. With that, the plane lifted into the air and left the ground entirely.

Mao was so excited by his success that he didn't notice where his plane was headed—into the side of a nearby building!

_"Oh my god! Look out!"_

_"Let's get out of here!"_

Frantically, he turned hard, narrowly missing the steel and concrete structure. However, the turn sent him into a spiral, which he corrected by turning the yoke left and easing off the right rudder. After a few moments, he turned the yoke right to roll away, leveling out, and soared into the sky.

Looking from side to side, he noticed a flock of birds had joined him. "Hello birds! I'm really doing it! I'm flying!" he called out excitedly. But then he realized something else—his mind was quiet! "Of course!" he exclaimed, realizing the reason. "I'm so high that no one's thoughts are in range!" He began laughing and clapping excitedly, savoring the relief and clarity, as tears of joy streamed down his cheeks. "If only C.C. could see me now!" he declared.

_"You'll do so much, Mao. I just know it."_

His confidence returning, he decided to try a few barrel spins and loops, banking and yawing with increasing skill. Peering down, he could see the sea below, its waves foaming under a brisk wind. However, his smile faded as he felt the steering yoke tense. Gripping it firmly with both hands, he struggled to keep the plane level, but something was pulling it hard! Mao quickly began pumping the crank he had attached, channeling more power into the engine.

Lightning flashed over his head, followed by a whipping rain. "What's…happening?" he grunted as he struggled with the yoke. The plane began to weave erratically as a roaring wind caught it within its grasp. "I didn't check the weather!" Mao realized, mollified.

As the plane was dragged further in, Mao almost lost all control. Dozens of lightning bolts struck in rapid succession all around the craft, the sound of the rain against the cockpit like that of relentless hammers. Looking out over the rim, he could see the water below churning and seething violently. "Is this what they call a 'hurricane?'" he wondered aloud.

Suddenly the winds changed and the plane was thrown off it course. Gritting his teeth, Mao grabbed the yoke with both arms and wrenched it to the side, kicking the throttle all the way forward. "You're gonna have to kill me first!" Mao shouted, challenging a particularly loud peal of thunder. With all his might, Mao forced the plane onward through the terrible storm and, eventually the winds seemed to calm and the rain stopped, the foreboding clouds parting to reveal a cheerful sun.

Though battered, the plane had made it through, coming within sight of Area 11.

_"Great job, Mao!"_

Breathing heavily, Mao checked the navigation instruments. "Lake Kawaguchi is this way, then," he muttered, alternating the rudder petals with his feet. As he neared the coordinates, he could see dozens of other airplanes flying around contentedly, meters below, banking, yawing and spinning for the amusement of the crowds gathered here today.

_Flying is so freeing!_

_Did she see me? Did she she? Yeah, baby that's what flying is all about!_

_Oh, he wants to race does he? Check this out!_

"I'll just drop down to their altitude and blend right in," Mao declared as he eased the throttle and pushed the yoke forward. Slowly, the plane dove lower and merged with the parade.

_Woah, where'd he come from?_

"I'll have to stay here for a bit," Mao realized as he leveled out, surprised at how much easier it had become for him in only a few hours. Careful not to collide with the other pilots, Mao waited until a group veered off to make a landing and he followed them.

However, a feeling of panic took hold as he realized—he didn't know how to land! It was something else he had overlooked in his preparations. He could see the ground approaching fast as his nose continued to dive. "Well I suppose I just have to go for it!" he shouted.

Using the rudder petals to position the craft roughly parallel to the lot below reserved for the hundreds of planes present at the convention, judging his position by looking where the wing visually intersected with the lot edge. Setting the crank aside, he pitched the nose down and raised the flaps. The wheels touched down upon the pavement but bounced hard, slamming his body against the dashboard. Throwing the yoke forward again, he tried to touch down once more, but it screeched and bounced again.

_Who is that?_

_Do they even know how to fly that thing—what kind of a landing is that?_

_"Clear the way!" _

Running out of time rapidly, he decided to pull back on the yoke, after which it finally set down roughly. As it began to roll forward, Mao completely released the throttle and let the plane slide for a few meters, hoping it would stop before hitting anything. Just as he neared the end of the lot, he found the brakes and switched the transponder off, finally halting the plane's journey.

Mao sat there for several moments, gripping the yoke tightly before he realized he had made it. He was alive. The plane was intact. And no one was injured. He turned down his recording, allowing the surrounding thoughts to enter his mind for a bit.

_Eh? Probably just a malfunction…he handled it well enough I suppose._

_It's such a beautiful day_

_Damn, what's wrong with my plane?_

_Someday, I'm gonna be a real pilot—just like daddy_

_I'm thirsty. Where's a damn Eleven when you need one?_

Satisfied, Mao rolled his eyes and turned the volume back up. "And no one seems suspicious of me. I did it!" Unsealing the cockpit, he climbed out, taking the keys with him, surrounded by droves of people and their families.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know there's no "Eastern Territory" in Australia (though there is an eastern territory). This fictional area would roughly correspond to our Queensland, but since Britannia never took possession of it, I felt the name made no sense and had to change it.**

**Also, the Oceanian Union is something I made up to explain Australia's conspicuous neutrality.**


	11. Spying Mao

**Music Recommendation: "To the Roof" by John Powell from **_**The Bourne Supremacy Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Spying Mao**_

Mao stared down at the items he had laid out upon the wooden table—a pistol, a few maps, a copy of the public registry for Area 11, a package of fresh batteries, and a ring of three keys—one to his plane, one for the nearby storage facility now temporarily hiding that plane, and that of his new suite, located in the Concession area of Tokyo Settlement.

Yesterday, he had arranged for the craft to be towed into temporary storage provided on hotel grounds. He was surprised by how cheap it had been, but he soon realized the reason—the Britannians kept Eleven wages fixed below a threshold by law. It kept the Elevens busy working hard to support their families and provided a whole rash of cheap products and services for the Britannians to enjoy.

"C.C. is here somewhere…I just have to find out _where_," he murmured a bit tiredly, studying the maps of Tokyo Settlement and greater Area 11 he had picked up. He circled the Viceroy's Palace, Shikine Island, and Ashford Academy as places to investigate.

"Of the three, the first place to search would be the Viceroy's Palace, followed by Shikine since it's the biggest Britannian air base, and lastly, Ashford Academy, only since it definitely functioning high-end laboratories, something Rosenberg would need," Mao reasoned.

Standing to his feet, he closed the registry, carefully folding the map and inserting it between its pages. The keys he also returned to his pocket, picking up the pistol nervously. He shook his head, however, and concealed the weapon under his coat as well. With that, he walked out the door, locked it and descended the metal stairs down to the street.

The atmosphere was quite different from that in China. Here in the Concession area, Britannian men and women strolled along, enjoying their day, rather oblivious to the world around them as they sought some new form of cheap entertainment, which most of the Elevens were all too content to sell them.

_I need to pick up the kids for theater tonight_

_Perfect day for a joyride! Pick up my girl and have a few drinks…_

_Pretty uneventful in the news today_

_Man, he was supposed to be here a half hour ago! How are we supposed to make some money if he doesn't show up for the matches on time? _

Mao took out one of his maps. "So the rail line is here. It should take me close enough…" he muttered as his feet carried him to a station for the 5th Circinate rail line which encircled the entire Concession area. A few Britannian travelers met Mao at the station and, together, they boarded the rail, Mao taking a solitary seat near the back of the car. As the smooth train sped forward, Mao looked from side to side, through each set of windows.

To his left was the wealthy, affluent and comfortable Britannian Concession area. To his right was the wretched, stinking and run down Ghetto, where the Elevens lived. The contrast was so striking…and ignored, Mao noticed, as he listened to the thoughts around him for a moment. He sighed and turned up C.C.'s voice in his voice

_"That's all I have to say, Mao. The times that we shared are the most precious in my entire existence. Mao, you gave me my heart's desire. I know it must have been hard and I'm sorry. But thank you. I'll always love you."_

Mao sighed miserably. He loved it when C.C. praised him and he loved to please her. After all, she was the first person to actually make him feel like he was worth something. But he couldn't do it this time. He couldn't give her what she asked. He just couldn't. And hearing her speak as if he had felt awful.

The recording looped and started from the beginning again.

_"Thank you, Mao. Don't worry."_

Checking his map, he saw the next stop was the closest the rail would venture near the Viceroy's Palace. Clearing his mind, he stood to his feet and walked toward the door, gripping a nearby column for support. The train slowed and the door slid open, allowing Mao to step out into the waiting station. A large portrait of a young man with long golden locks greeted him, adorned with the title, 'Clovis la Britannia, Third Prince and Viceroy of Area 11'.

Rolling his eyes, he took the stairs back to ground level and made his way forward, following his map. He quickly took notice of a number of military police patrolling the grounds the closer he neared the Palace, making a point to avoid them. However, he soon encountered a full-fledged security perimeter which seemed to stretch out a ways from the central structure itself. This would be more difficult than he thought.

He walked carefully along the edge, painfully aware of the thoughts of the sentries keeping a wary eye on his movements.

_Hey, who is that?_

_What's he doing there?_

_He's just…walking along the edge. _

_Is he an Eleven? No he can't be. They could never afford those clothes. Damn...  
_

He continued this for a bit, becoming more agitated, before he found a solution. Close by was a lonely bench, a perfect place to sit down and focus his mind.

Strolling up to it, he sat down and took out his map, pretending to study it as if he was lost.

"_Subject has moved on. Nothing unusual."_

But underneath his visor, Mao stared out at the large complex before him. Enormous white spires rose from the ground, holding innumerable conference rooms, offices and lavish halls for the administration of the colony. And at the very top, within the center of the defensive ring of steel, sat the opulent villa of the Viceroy himself, sporting an enormous Britannian flag hanging down. "This is the hard part," Mao muttered weakly as he took out his player and pressed 'stop'.

Immediately, the thoughts he had been holding back poured into his mind. But Mao was ready for it and focused on a sentry stationed along the perimeter. "That's the starting point," he muttered, slowly expanding his range. He began to hear some of the thoughts of those within the palace as well, though others were too far away, and sweat began to bead his forehead. "Concentrate," he muttered, breathing faster, utilizing the training the Directorate had forced upon him.

_Is he having some sort of fit down there?_

_Maybe he's coming down off some drug… There are those rumors going around about some new street drug the Elevens made_

_It's such a dreary day in here. I wish I could be outside_

_We have to do something about this terrorist menace…the disruptions are getting worse_

_Hmm… Should I wear the violet or the deep red? Which would be more commanding? Or attractive to the ladies?_

_I wonder what the Prince's reaction will be to this report? Ugh, that girl has been such a pain to study… Ugh my head still hurts!  
_

Mao's eyes widened and he focused in on that mind, probing his subconscious. "Bartley Asprius!" Mao exclaimed, despite himself. "I suppose they were able to dig him out after all... And he's approaching Prince Clovis with a report on C.C.! Getting pistol whipped doesn't seem to have tempered his resolve at all. Oh we can't have that," he smirked. Though he couldn't see them from this vantage, they were actually surprisingly close, with the Prince insisting on meeting out on one of the nearby pristine balconies, despite the obvious security disadvantages. But stupidity and pride were nothing new to Mao, and they were such great flaws for him to exploit after all.

"_What do we know about her?," Clovis asked absently._

"_Almost nothing, my lord," General Bartley replied carefully, though that wasn't quite true, of course. Master V.V. has forbidden me from mentioning anything I learned through my service to the Directorate... "__The doctors found a curious abnormality in her blood-it seems that it contains lethal levels of lead, around __120 μg/dL. Her blood clots quickly, with a platelet level ten times normal, despite very low levels of factor VIII. Professor Matthias has suggested she may possess pluripotent stem cells. __And, of course, she cannot be killed. At least, not by any device we possess. Any injuries inflicted upon her simply repair themselves at an accelerated rate via some unknown means of, in his words, 'spontaneous cellular regeneration'. Although she bears a curious scar under her left breast. We don't understand how it survives though, given her healing abilities.__"_

"_Do you have a photograph?"_

_Damn where is it? "Uh…yes." _

"_Well then," Clovis remarked suggestively. "She certainly has a lovely bust."_

Mao's eyes narrowed as a scowl darkened his face.

"_Uh…um..well…I…ah…" What is the proper response to that kind of remark in my position? _

"_Now, now, Bartley, don't be such a prude. I'm sure you thought the same."_

"_O-Of course, my lord," the rotund man replied, stiffening his back straight and clearing his throat awkwardly.  
_

_"Anything else interesting?" Clovis asked, sounding rather bored as the discussion went on._

_"Well, she somehow incapacitated one of our technicians simply by touching him. During the incident, a curious mark appeared on her forehead. We don't know what to make of it. We were only able to capture a few frames though, as it happened so fast," the General added, handing the Prince another photograph._

_Wait, I've seen this before… "Bartley, are you aware that this mark is the same as that contained in the ruins on Kamine Island?"_

_Really? "What a strange connection…" Perhaps the Directorate should dispatch a team over there. We may have to bring Clovis in after all... There's no way to do it without him taking notice.  
_

"_General, I want you to continue learning everything you can about this girl and her abilities. You, of course, have access to all funds and materials you may require for your duties. Study her genes, her brain, everything. And while you're at it, dispatch a team to Kamine. I want on-site research there as well. If we can reproduce this immortality, obtain it from her somehow, I can present her to the Emperor." Think of the favor he will bestow upon me, Third Prince._

"_A word of caution, my lord. If we can reproduce her abilities, perhaps it might be prudent to…keep it our secret. Then you could be emperor…when the time came."_

_What a terrible suggestion!_

_Oh dear, that look. I've most definitely overstepped my bounds now._

"_Dear Bartley, father is a much greater Emperor than I could ever hope to be." __And a far more interested one as well..._ "Britannia will fare far better under his continued reign."  


"_Of course, my lord. My apologies."  
_

"_Think nothing of it. __Your devotion to your lord is commendable."_  


"So…" Mao muttered bitterly as he penetrated deep into the aging man's mind. "C.C. is being held...in Shinjuku , at a secret underground military-controlled research facility. Code-R?"

_What's he doing? Is he muttering to himself?_

"_Maybe we should call someone…"_

_Pretty suspicious._

Mao's eyes darted back and forth and he rose, walking away quickly, keeping his hands in his pockets.

_Where's he going?_

_Ah…I guess I don't need to bother._

After he had put some distance between himself and the Palace, his thoughts returned to the details he had uncovered. "So Prince Clovis is part of this as well. I may need to kill everyone who knows before this is over… Bartley is employing specialists from Rosenberg to aid in the research. Fortunately, their strict secrecy means that there aren't many guards allowed on the premises. At least, not as many as I thought there would be. They are kept separate in a guard complex to restrict access to the lower levels." Mao smirked. "Oh well, how unfortunate for them!" he laughed. "But I'm going to need more guns though. _Lots _more guns."

Returning to the station, he boarded the line once more and sat down to think where he should go looking for them. "Elevens aren't allowed to have weapons, but Britannians wouldn't sell to me. At least not without proper identification," he reasoned "So I have to go underground. There seems to be a lot of anger for Britannia around here. I'll find a a rebel then." He looked around for a moment, but there weren't even any Elevens on the line. "The Ghetto," he realized as he checked his map.

He stayed there for several turns before finally disembarking near the outskirts of the Concession area. "It says here this is Saitama Ghetto," he muttered as he crossed over, the shiny villas and towers of glass, polished metal, and marble giving way to wretched, crowded tenement housing and dirty streets where throngs of ailing children played.

"My, my, the thoughts are so depressing around here," Mao mused, looking around. In truth, the squalor wasn't all that unfamiliar to him. It was the attitude that was so different. After all, he had C.C.

Men and women shuffled along listlessly, their thoughts sad and filled with regret. Mao was having mixed feelings about C.C.'s instruction in Japanese at that moment.

_Another stinking day under Britannia…_

_Why is it so hard to sell my stuff around here?_

_I miss daddy_

"No, it'll be instrumental to my plan," Mao reminded himself as he wandered around for a while among the crowds, now under the fearful eyes of the Elevens who lived here. Each person he came across, he subjected to a quick probe, searching for information on whom he could purchase from. Such a technique allowed him to gain a quick understanding of the essentials he needed to know about a place before even speaking a word to its inhabitants.

Extending his range he began probing various minds inside the rundown buildings lining the streets, searching for information of local sellers. But firearms proved scarcer than he first imagined. "Criminals don't have a habit of hanging guns around their necks for all to see, I suppose," Mao mused. "Perhaps looking in less obvious places would fare better." The fact was, Mao had no idea what he was doing and the growing realization was wearing on his nerves.

_What's he doing here?_

_Go away_

_Flaunting his wealth around like that_

_Leave us alone_

_Probably looking for a whore-hey where's my daughter, we could use the money  
_

He walked several blocks under prying eyes for a good hour before he found someone who seemed promising; a shifty-eyed man with a crown of short dark hair and piercing brown eyes who prided himself on his hand to hand fighting prowess. Mao took note and approached him.

_Am I being followed? _

His name was Kazuma, but those who bought from him knew him as Doragoniki. "If I just approach him, he'll be suspicious," Mao muttered. "But if pretend like I was referred by someone close to him… Pretend is not the same as lying after all."

_Definitely being followed..._

The man turned toward him in surprise, eyeing him suspiciously. "You lost?" he demanded.

"Is it so obvious?" Mao muttered to himself, drawing a raised eyebrow. "No," he added.

"You look lost to me," the man pressed.

Handing him a bundle of eighty or so yuan, Mao explained furtively, "You're Doragoniki, right?"

The man raised an eyebrow. _How does he know that name? I've never seen him before_. "Perhaps. Why?"

"I'm looking to purchase weapons. I learned _by _a man named Ohgi that you sell to resistance groups," Mao explained. After all, it _wasn't _a lie.

_Ohgi sent him? He must trust him then… _"That's correct," Doragoniki admitted. "Please follow me," he added, leading Mao off the streets to an obscure warehouse which lay abandoned amidst rows of taller structures which blocked it from view.

"Yellow Box," Mao read the rusted sign at the entrance. There was a man there and Mao could see something rather large concealed underneath his faded jacket.

"Easy, Taro," Doragoniki assured him with a gentle hand. "We have a customer today.

The other man, Taro, nodded and relaxed, unlatching the door.

"Is the shop ready?" Doragoniki inquired absently.

"Sure is," Taro replied.

They led Mao into a large dark interior, securing the door behind him. But one thing was immediately apparent—it was clearly empty.

"What is this?" Mao blurted out, on edge.

_It always amuses me how people first react_

"Ah, it's a front," Mao mused, correcting himself.

"You catch on pretty quick," Taro remarked.

Unlocking a swing down ladder, Doragoniki climbed up, followed by Mao, while Taro left to guard the door once more.

"So that's why it's so dark," Mao muttered as he was greeted by an long grated floor, through which was a clear view to the ground floor, bolted with several racks covered with firearms of all kinds.

"Welcome to the Yamato Alliance. We have pistols, shotguns, grenade and rocket launchers, rifles…armor piercing, steel core _and_ incendiary ammunition" he beamed, clearly proud of his arsenal. "What kind of weapons are you looking for specifically?"

"Assault…I think," Mao replied uncertainly.

"Alright. Right here on this wall," Doragoniki indicated.

Mao stared at the rack, carefully drawing down an automatic rifle, looking over it and pressing it against his shoulder. He did likewise with the shotgun and submachine gun. "I'll take them," he said with a nervous smile.

_There's something...different about him. Not like any of the resistance fighters that come in here. What is it?  
_

"What group are you with?" Doragoniki asked him suddenly._  
_

"Oh I…work alone," Mao replied carefully.

Doragoniki raised an eyebrow, his smile faded. He pursed his lips.

_I deal to resistance groups, but this guy doesn't belong to any of them, I'm sure of it… Why would Ohgi send him? What does he know that I don't? Unless…could he have been captured? Is this a setup? What's with those headphones-would he really be wearing such an obvious bug? Is he listening for instructions?  
_

Doragoniki looked him over carefully and Mao swallowed hard.

_No...it could be…he must be in some sort of trouble_

"Sir, are you in some kind of trouble?" the man asked finally, trying to see past the dark visor to the face below.

Mao averted his gaze, unsure of how to truthfully respond in this situation. "I…"

"Why don't you tell me what's going on?" Doragoniki pressed.

Mao looked at his eyes—they were kind, he realized. For once Mao detected no duplicity or contempt in his thoughts. "Someone I care about has been…taken by Britannia," he admitted, albeit vaguely. "They're holding her captive in one of their bases."

Doragoniki exhaled, nodding his head knowingly. "I see. So you're gonna break in and rescue her…hence the assault weapons?"

Mao nodded.

"I can't sell to you," Doragoniki decided, his jaw set.

"What?" Mao exclaimed.

"If you go, you'll just be killed," the arms dealer explained. "As one man, you wouldn't stand a chance against those thugs. These guys are hardcore-they'll kill you without a second thought. I can't let you throw your life away like that."

"I have to try," Mao countered. "I have to."

"Why?" Doragoniki pressed, unshaken.

"Because…because I love her," Mao declared.

Doragoniki's eyes widened and Mao noticed his thoughts turn to that of his late wife, Yuko. Apparently she had been caught in the fray during the Britannian invasion and killed.

"Don't you have someone," Mao pressed gently. "Someone who you'd risk your life to save if you could? How would it feel if you lost them, knowing you could've at least tried to save her?"

_Yuko! Oh my sweet Yuko… Why? Curse Britannia!  
_

Tears began to stain the man's eyes and he hurriedly wiped them away.

"Please, I don't have anyone else to go to," Mao pleaded.

The man sighed. "Alright. I'll sell. I'll sell," he agreed, giving in. "But...uh-you have to take suppressors and laser sights too. The sights should correct your aim-I noticed you were a little unsteady there," he added with a wink.

Mao nodded gratefully as the dealer prepared his selections.

"You'll still need some kind of bag to carry all this in. You're lucky all my guns have collapsible stalks and simple assembly, great for quick cleaning," Doragoniki remarked as he drew an indiscriminate dark bag down from the shelf. "Take one of these," he said, tossing it to Mao. "It's waterproof with an armored lining."

He then proceeded to show Mao how to fold the weapons up for storage and, together, they packed the bag. It was fairly heavy when they were finished, but Mao managed.

Sweeping his gaze over the shelves one last time, an attachment caught his eye and he drew it down. "A rocket launcher?" he mused.

"Great idea," Doragoniki quipped. "It attaches to the assault rifle. Just aim, pull the trigger, brace yourself for the impact and **clear the way.**" He laughed despite himself.

"I can't thank you enough," Mao said sincerely.

"Well, thank _you_ for the business," Doragoniki agreed, counting out the ten thousand yuan Mao tendered. "And good luck!"

Mao nodded and descended down the ladder to the seemingly vacant warehouse below. Greeting Taro in acknowledgment, he walked off into the evening air, the dim flickering lights of the ghetto creating an eerie flash.

_Never seen a resistance fighter so…loudly dressed. Oh, maybe he's in disguise…but what's the point of that here?_

It was even later by the time Mao reached his suite and set the bag down wearily. Doing as he was told, he unpacked his new weapons ,tested their sights, took out the magazines and checked their springs, oiled the barrels of each one carefully and reassembled them, just as he had been shown. Altogether, it took about an hour and a half.

Though he was very tired, he knew he needed to move quickly, and so he packed up his belongings, slung his new bag over his shoulder and, once more, left grand hotel, headed for a rail on the map which would take him back into the Settlement.

He waited for several hours in the station shack, and, when the first rays of dawn shone down through the roof, the train approached and slowed. He boarded it and paid for a seat in first class. "Tokyo Settlement," he muttered wearily.

_My, my… Quite early to be traveling._

Mao inserted fresh batteries into his audio player and leaned back into the cool, buttery leather of the first class chamber, closing his eyes as C.C.'s soothing voice lulled him to a grateful sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: Apologies if this was boring, but it was necessary to set up for what comes next. And the name 'Doragoniki' is supposed to mean, "Dragon's Breath" (but my Japanese may be poor).**


	12. Shooting Mao: Calm Like A Bomb

**Author's Note: Just to give you a fair warning, the story gets bloodier and gorier than earlier fare from here on out. ****And don't forget to review, comment, question, whatever. Your encouragement (and criticism) helps keep this story going.**

**Recommended Music: "Yotsuba Koroshi no Kaigi Shitsu" by Taniuchi Hideki from the **_**DEATH NOTE Original Soundtack II, **_**followed by**** "Black Water" by Nobuo Uematsu from the **_**Final Fantasy VII Advent Children Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Shooting Mao**_

**(Calm Like A Bomb)**

_"Mao…"_

Mao felt something warm against his cheek. It was a familiar feeling. Looking up, he saw C.C.'s face smiling down at him, her hand gently extended to his head. Mao smiled and opened his eyes. The image faded and he found himself alone once more in the private chamber of the train.

Gazing out through the windows, gone were the ruins from the destruction caused by the Britannian invasion which still had yet to be cleaned up. The towering skyscrapers of the Concession loomed behind, several dozen buildings rising up to greet the train amidst the urban sprawl.

Mao strained his eyes to find the facility, thinking over the details he had gleaned from General Bartley's mind in order to identify the correct building which contained the secret entrance to the facility

The train came to a stop and Mao was allowed to disembark, grabbing his bag and stepping off.

_A first class traveler getting off at Shinjuku of all places? What can his business there be? Ugh, don't tell me it's a another whore stop...  
_

He felt a bout of nausea spread through his stomach, the claustrophobic city stench overwhelming here. "No wonder Doragoniki's business does so well though," Mao muttered as he observed the conditions in the ghetto. Quickly finding a corner which offered a view of the surrounding area, he leaned against it to get his bearings. What caught his interest was a large, indiscriminate concrete building. A light breeze kicked up against his face as he studied the structure. There were no windows and no entrances. Instead, all traffic was screened through a building which jutted off from the front and which Mao knew to be a guardhouse staffed by soldiers who didn't know what they were guarding. "They've hidden it in the Ghetto so they can bury it without anyone asking questions. According to Bartley, there are only thirty or so guards in the complex," he muttered. "The rest of the facility is underground and occupied by the scientists and technicians. I can't believe she's so close…after all this time."

As he was watching, one of the soldiers emerged from the building and Mao focused his Geass upon him. "So where's he going?" he asked absently.

_Finally my break! I'm so hungry…And I gotta pee!_

"Ah, to this cheap restaurant over here… Well, I guess I have a plan now," Mao mused as he slipped out of the alley, careful not to be seen, and followed the man into the restaurant, diverging to the empty bathroom.

"I'm glad he's ordering first," Mao muttered as he wedged himself behind the door, taking note of the closet on the far wall. As predicted, after a few moments the guard came trudging into the bathroom and shut the door, oblivious.

Drawing one of his pistols, Mao quickly put it against the back of the man's helmet. He froze.

"Don't make any sound, Alex. There's no need for you to die here. But anyone else who comes through that door _will _die," Mao explained slowly. He tried hard not to laugh and ruin the cool 'tough guy' image he was going for here.

_So he doesn't want to hurt a Britannian soldier, huh? But how does he know my name? _"You need money?" he asked carefully.

"Remove your helmet," Mao ordered, ignoring the question.

_Could I disarm him? Maybe if I just…_

"Do it slowly," Mao warned sternly. "Don't even think of trying to disarm me. You won't make it happen."

_How'd he know? _Seeing no other option, Alex slowly raised his arms and gripped his helmet, sliding it off.

Mao smiled at the confidence he felt, knowing exactly what the man would and would not do. "Set it on the ground," he explained.

"There," Alex intoned as he did so. "Now what do you want from me?" he pressed, his irritation growing.

Mao's finger hovered over the trigger, an unexpected indecision taking hold of him. His hand began to shake.

"Please, just tell me," Alex pressed.

"I have to kill you," Mao replied with a shrug.

"B-But why?" the soldier stammered, taken aback by the sudden admission.

"You people are holding someone I love as a prisoner. I know this for a fact. To get in without being shot on sight, I'll need your uniform and identification intact, but obviously having you alive would be a hindrance," Mao explained without a tinge of emotion.

"But…I have a family—a wife and children!" Alex begged.

Something in Mao snapped, however, and he pressed the barrel harder into the man's skull. _It hurts!_

"You may be just a lowly security guard now, but you fought in the invasion years ago," Mao sneered venomously. "What of all the Japanese you killed then? They had lovers and children, parents, siblings—but that didn't stop you from shooting them dead, did it?" he spat accusingly.

"I—I was…just following orders," he pleaded weakly, losing his grip.

"What a cowardly answer," Mao countered in disgust. "You're nothing but a murderer for hire. A child butcher," he spat as he began to squeeze the trigger. Alex whimpered in agony, almost wishing he had been shot without the explanation.

_Child killer? No! Those faces… Make them go away! I want to forget!_

"For you, C.C.," Mao whispered as the round silently embedded itself into the man's brain, the only sound that of tearing flesh as he began to pitch forward. Mao caught him, however, and laid him down quietly, proceeding to take off his own leather coat and store it in the bag. He then removed the man's body armor, putting it on himself instead, and took his identification card and issue grade pistol. He stood up to examine his reflection. It was a bit too short and a bit too wide.

"But no one will get to look at me long enough to tell," he muttered. Satisfied, he exchanged his visor for the helmet and his large headphones for the small headset connected to the radio, storing them in his bag. Only he disconnected from the radio and plugged into the audio player C.C. gave him instead, storing the radio on his new belt, loud and clear. Finished, he dragged the half-clothed body into the small closet and, with some shoving, managed to secure the door.

Looking down at the blood and brains strewn across the floor, however, he dry heaved. Taking the hose from the faucet, he sprayed the floor down, washing the mess down the drain installed into the ground. A dark hue still stained the spot, but Mao ignored it.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Mao whirled around, on edge.

"Hey, open up will ya? I gotta go!" an irate man demanded. _Come on, come on, come on…_

"Just a moment," Mao called out, gathering up his bag and checking the room one last time. Opening the door, he strode past the impatient customer and walked briskly out the dining room.

_There he is! _"Sir! I have your order ready! Sir?" one of the Eleven servers called out.

But Mao ignored her and kept walking out the door.

_How rude. Whatever, then!_

_Wait...what is that running out from underneath the door? **Oh my god!**_

_This food is so tasty…mmhmm…_

His footfalls brisk, Mao crept toward the gray building carefully. Concealing himself behind a large bus, he strapped and slung his other weapons to his person and checked their magazines. As he neared the entrance, he turned down C.C.'s voice and drew out Alex's I.D. card, swiping it at the electronic interface which signaled the door to engage, allowing him entry.

Inside was a lobby of sorts, with metal detectors and surveillance cameras, although disguised as a guard he was immune to such screening, along with scores of soldiers manning the stations or simply mulling about. There were two more rooms off to each side, one for arms and equipment and the other for laundry and recreation. Both housed even more guards. Mao took note of the layout and their relative positions before proceeding.

Up ahead was a group of five with their backs turned toward him, lazily cradling automatic rifles, engaged in conversation. There were also two groups of two leaning against the walls off to the sides drowsily.

_So tired…_

_Can't wait till my shift's over_

_Oh, Alex is back already? I guess it's my turn  
_

Yet another guard was distracted by something on the computer at the moment. No one paid Mao any attention as he carefully gripped the assault rifle slung across his chest, loaded the rocket into the attached launcher, and took aim with the laser sight for the group of five up ahead. He swallowed hard, feeling like this was tantamount to suicide. But it was the only way he could see at the moment.

_I could really go for a drink right now_

_He's so funny!_

_That girl at the restaurant—tonight she's mine_

_Why is that red light on his neck? Oh my g—!_

Mao pulled the trigger, staggering backwards from the force of the impact, gagging from the trail of white smoke as the missile streaked toward its target. A deafening explosion filled the space ahead, singing Mao's skin with a wave of blistering heat as the guards flew apart, a mess of smoldering chunks of flesh splayed out across the blackened floor

_What the hell? He just shot them!_

"Hey! What's your name and—"

But his demand was cut short by a flurry of bullets, spraying his blood across the row of monitors, the silenced rumble of automatic gunfire filling the room

_Did you hear that?_

_"Grab the guns!"_

_"Where's my helmet? Damn, in a time like this!"_

_Just forget it!_

_I can't believe we're under attack. After all this time…_

___What the hell? _  


Hearing those in the side rooms rushing out, Mao hid himself behind a support column and loaded a fresh magazine into the rifle, waiting, trying to steady his breathing as his heart raced.

The men quickly took position, as they were trained to do, using columns and other obstructions for cover, some prone, some on one knee, others merely standing. Mao judged there were about twenty-four assembled.

"DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!" one of the soldiers barked sternly. "SHOW YOURSELF—SLOWLY! THIS IS A RESTRICTED MILITARY FACILITY! IF YOU DO NOT COMPLY, WE ARE AUTHORIZED TO EXECUTE YOU HERE."

_Dammit, where are they?_

_If I lean out to the left, I might be able to quickly spot them. They don't know where I am…_

Peering around the corners of his column, however, Mao was waiting and as soon as the man stuck his upper torso out, Mao fired off a few rounds, dropping him to the ground dead.

"Oh no you don't!" Mao exclaimed, shaking his head.

_Oh my god, Victor!_

_Fine, we gave him his chance. Now he dies._

Mao listened carefully, picking out the details of their positions as the room became tense, a nervousness gripping his opponents now. But _his_ problem was vantage. The column against his back wasn't ideal—"The column just across the way, however…" Mao whispered, drawing his pistols and darting across the gap, covering his movement with a rapid succession of gunshots and drawing a flurry of machine gun fire streaking past him and over his head.

_There he is! If I point my shotgun there…_

Just as he crossed over to the column, Mao dropped to his knees and shot the rushing pointman, his shotgun clattering to the floor, and then rolled behind it, throwing his back against it for support. His pistols spent for the moment, he drew the submachine gun, bracing himself against the merciless hail of bullets shredding into the column behind him.

_Time to reload…_

_Damn, I'm empty_

_I know there's another mag on my belt…_

_Mag!_

_If I run I can make it there_

Casting a quick glance out Mao whirled around and, taking aim with the laser sight, ran down the line, sending the eight off-guard soldiers to the floor, one after the other, keeping a wary feel for his magazine capacity.

The guards across the way were following his run with bursts of their own assault rifles, however, but Mao carefully stayed behind the series of support columns, providing intermittent cover between himself and the shooters, their fire doing little more than shower the room in concrete powder.

Mao continued running, sliding to a halt behind another column, bracing himself for the inevitable flurry that followed. It seemed stable enough. Letting the submachine gun fall to his chest, Mao drew the shotgun, pumping a round into place.

"Hey do you guys want some of _this_?" Mao called out gleefully. This was more fun than he thought!

_Have to go to the left_

_Wait, where'd he go? Wasn't he just…_

"Cover me—" but his plea was cut short by a spray of shot shredding his body apart—and that of his two comrades, their gore mingling with the shattered concrete behind.

_Screw this! I'm just gonna run over there and tackle him from his blindside. He's gotta reload sometime…might as well be now._

Mao paused, turning his body toward the opening, his finger carefully resting on the trigger of the shotgun. Sure enough, a man came running around, his rifle drawn and ready. But Mao, knowing his plan, was faster and sent him sprawling to the far wall, his back blown out from such a close-range impact, and cueing a renewed hail of gunfire from the other guards now on edge.

_Jack's down too? Unbelievable! Who the hell is this guy?_

Trading in the shotgun for his assault rifle, Mao braced the stalk firmly against his shoulder and checked the clearing. All the remaining guards were taking cover behind what was left of the other columns.

_Come on, show yourself a little._

_Is it just us left? No way! Who the hell is this guy?_

"Come out, come out," Mao called out in a sing-song voice, seeking to draw a bit of their fire as he eaned out where they weren't expecting it and pulled back in quickly just as bullets hit the wall behind.

_Did I get him?_

Now all Mao had to do was wait for them to peek out and check. And since he knew their thoughts, he knew when each would before they did. Sure enough, as one of the guards took a quick look out, Mao pulled the trigger of the rifle, spinning him around from the force of the blow as his chest and shoulder were destroyed.

_Shit, he's not down!_

Another shower of wasted bullets came flying Mao's way.

_I'm gonna try to crawl around… You cover me. Keep your eyes on that column._

Mao smiled and began shooting the column the two were hiding behind, halting their clever plan for the moment as they huddled together for cover. However, the exchange drew a renewed spray of fire from cover across the room, forcing Mao to stop and take cover.

Instead, Mao drew his pistols and , aiming one at the far wall and one at the column hiding the two guards, he fired the first, drawing out one of the guards to shoot for that position, whilst Mao shot him dead with the other. Attempting to catch Mao whilst he was distracted by his other targets, another came running out, but his boots met a slippery pool of blood and he fell hard, sliding over to Mao's side as his helmet flew off.

_My ankle! Did I just sprain it? Now of all times!_

A bullet in the back of his head quickly ended his agony, however. Reloading one pistol and exchanging the other for the military grade issue he had taken from Alex, Mao readied himself as five more soldiers in the far corner emptied their magazines. Using the opportunity, Mao rushed out, pistols raised, as he bore down upon them hard, carefully directing his shots into their throats where their armor wouldn't interfere.

_Now I've got him!_

Mao heard the thought, but his muscles weren't fast enough to evade and he took a few rounds in the shoulder and back, sending him sprawling behind another column for cover, winded. Pain flared down his body, but it appeared the poorly aimed shots had been stopped by Alex's body armor and trauma plates.

_I definitely got him that time!_

"Just die already!" someone shouted to distract him, but really was rushing to make it to the computer station in order to warn the facility. Aware of the trick, however, Mao stepped out with the submachine gun and shot his feet out, using the opportunity to finish him with a more precise blast to the neck.

Yet another spray of fire, however, sent Mao diving behind the station for cover, the computer equipment going up in a burst of sparks and dust.

_I'm empty… Shit, the other mags are across the room! What do I do now?_

That was all Mao needed to hear and he sprung up to his feet and whirled around, his pistol aimed squarely for the man's exposed face. "The one who forgot his helmet, I see," Mao muttered.

"Wait! I'm unarmed! I'm—" but his plea was deafened by the blast of several unsuppressed rounds from Mao's pistol, dropping him to the cold concrete with a shattering crunch.

Shaking, Mao slowly turned around, surveying his grim work on the floor. It was covered with weapons, spent casings and mangled heaps of bloody organs and tissue,. "I won," he breathed, almost in disbelief. "I can really do this! I can rescue C.C. So cool."

* * *

**Endsong:**** "Deer Dance" by System of A Down**


	13. Raging Mao: Assault On Code R

**Recommended Music: "Suishou no Hiru" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the ****_Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Soundtrack III_, followed by "Sara ni ****Tatakau Monotachi (AC Version)" by Nobuo Uematsu from the _Final _**_**Fantasy VII Advent Children Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Raging Mao**_

**(Assault On Code-R)**

Ejecting the spent magazine from his assault rifle, Mao snatched up a fresh one from a nearby corpse, sliding it in with a slap. He walked carefully over to the facility elevator across the room, which was now riddled with smoking bullet holes. Affixed to the wall beside the door was another card reader for the Rosenberg scientists. But there was also a keypad which accepted codes given to its highest level operatives—in this case, the director of the project, General Bartley Asprius, himself.

"CR441823666007," Mao muttered as he input the code into the keypad, the lock disengaging with a soft hiss. Gripping the barrel of the rifle, Mao entered the elevator, the sliding doors sealing behind him. He felt a drop in his stomach as the room fell deep below ground. Once the descent was complete, Mao slid the door and braved a quick look inside. The interior which greeted him was dark. Taking a flight of stairs to his right, he descended further down into the blackness which led to a steel door at the bottom. He tried the handle. Open. His pulse quickened—the darkness was foreboding, almost frightening. The door swung into a dimly lit hall, the first visual indication of the complex's occupancy. There were doors on either side, with thin beams of bright light shining out from underneath.

_"Are we out of coffee again?"_

_Can't the General keep this place stocked? We have like an unlimited budget for crying out loud!_

_Why does Deneuvre make me so nervous? I wish the General was here to keep him busy…_

_Well, time to put the girl under for now…_

Mao tensed as he neared the first door, raising the weapon high. There were three researchers inside scavenging the refrigerators and cupboards wearily. It had been a long day, apparently. Mao's eyes darted to the other doors in the hall. One was a lounge where four more researchers reclined, listening to classical music or reading light novels. Still another was a control room of sorts, containing a computer array to analyze the data gathered from the experiments below. A single individual sat inside, monitoring the activity in the subbasement which could be reached by the final door at the end of the hall and where, Mao knew, C.C. was being kept.

"The control room first," Mao muttered as he stalked over to that door. Taking a deep breath, he let the rifle fall to his chest and drew his pistols, kicking it open.

_What the-! _The man thought has he spilled his coffee all over himself in shock. He whirled around in his chair, but Mao, pulled a trigger, the muffled round penetrating deep into the man's chest, splaying the monitors behind with a garish spout of blood. Twice.

Entering the room, Mao shut the door quietly and took his fingers to the keyboard. "I need to find out what's going on here…" he muttered, looking through the latest files. "The sessions all seem to be archived…" he mused, opening a video log dated for this week. On the screen played a recording of C.C. surrounded by a coterie of scientists and Rupert Deneuvre himself, the man Mao was beginning to hate more and more. C.C. was strapped to a crude steel chair, her head wired into a large device connected to an array of monitors. Mao touched the screen as if to wipe a tear away from her cheek. Her face was expressionless.

"_Mr. Deneuvre, we will now commence the demonstration. Doctor?"_, a man of authority narrated.

"_Right away, sir,_" the older man replied.

Mao watched in horror as two electrical coils were clamped onto C.C.'s shoulders, their coppery teeth sinking mercilessly into her flesh.

"_Applying voltage now…"_

"No," Mao muttered in disbelief as the scientists in the video began to electrocute C.C. in front of the small crowd, who watched in awe at the display of burning flesh. At first C.C. made no sound, merely closed her eyes and grit her teeth, though after a bit, she began to scream. The pain overwhelmed her and she slumped in her chair, spasming violently. But, several moments later, her complexion lightened as the burns began to fade and hair follicles revived. If Mao hadn't been used to such feats, he would not have believed his eyes.

"_Incredible!" _Deneuvre exclaimed.

"_Rapid accelerated healing,"_ an aide concurred.

C.C.'s eyes fluttered open and she gasped as she drew new breath.

"_Alright, show me something else," _Deneuvre demanded, delighted, snapping his fingers for effect.

"_Careful, you don't want to get to close to her. She once put one of ours out cold with just a touch. The guy went crazy, started freaking out," _the Professor warned.

"_How?"_ Deneuvre asked, looking at her carefully.

"_We have no idea, only speculation. But we theorize it could be some sort of contact-initiated psychic attack," _the Professor replied. "_Given the effects."_

"_So she has offensive applications as well," _Deneuvre mused. _"What is she? Is she some kind of alien?"_

"_Mr. Deneuvre, the likelihood of discovering an extraterrestrial biological entity with a system resembling anything remotely human is almost zero. She requires further study, but we must avoid wild speculation and fantasy," _the Professor chided condescendingly. _"Mr. Lynch! Get in here!"_

Another man entered the room carrying a large rifle with a _very_ long barrel. Obviously suppressed. Dropping down on one knee a few meters away, he unfolded a bipod and put his eye to the telescopic scope, placing the crosshairs on C.C.'s forehead carefully.

"_Ready…aim…" _one of the scientists intoned slowly.

"_Fire!" _Deneuvre shouted impatiently.

There was a burst of smoke from the barrel as the round exited the chamber, streaking into C.C.'s forehead. Her face split apart in a mess of gore from the force of the round, racking her frame in the bolted chair.

"_Subsonic round," the _shooter explained proudly.

Just like before, however, after several more moments the blood slowly receded back into her hanging head, the cells recombining and reforming her damaged tissue. Golden eyes opened and she drew breath once more, pursing her lips.

"_Incredible! Just incredible!" _Deneuvre exclaimed ecstatically, whooping and hollering._ "My god! How does she do that?"_

"_Well…we're not quite sure yet," _a young aide hesitated to answer, his voice trailing off.

"_At first, the General was excited by the possibility that during dismemberment she could grow new appendages and organs in order to revive—so we could use her old organs to synthesize the effect—but unfortunately, it seems that the old merely recede back together in order to reform," _one of the doctors, obviously of some authority, commented.

Unable to handle it any longer, Mao pitched forward violently and vomited all over the panel. Wiping the bitter trail from his mouth, he took several deep breaths. The body armor suddenly felt very constricting and his temperature drew sweat.

Closing the file, he scanned over the hundreds of experiment logs. They stretched back months, many of them labeled with various executions—immolation, dismemberment, disintegration—the more exotic methods covering larger blocks of time, he assumed, for C.C. to repair herself. Others were more scientific or even occult; had he understood, he would've thought it strange to see 'DNA analysis', 'biorhythmic feedback', 'aural photography' and 'crystalogy' written beside each other. But then, after his experiences with the Geass Directorate, he understood such studies were on par for the course for these people.

"_-Hey Dale, I'm coming up there to grab the readout from last night's session. Have it ready_," a voice blared on the radio, giving Mao quite a start. Glancing at Dale's corpse, he hurriedly switched off the computer and hid beside the door, struggling to steady his breathing as his fury began to overwhelm him. "These people are monsters," he spat through grit teeth.

Sure enough, a grey-haired man sporting a long white lab coat strode into the room—and then stopped in his tracks upon finding the body. _What the hell is this?_

"What happened-?" he asked in disbelief, his words cut by a round from Mao's pistol slamming into his tender spine. He collapsed to the floor, joining his colleague, before another, lethal round finished the job.

Mao's eyes narrowed as a grim determination overtook his features. Leaving the room, he quickly made his way back to the first door. "I'm going to kill every one of these bastards!" he seethed as he sent a vicious kick into the entrance, throwing it open and raising his pistols. "You're gonna pay for what you've done to C.C.!"

There were only two inside now. The third had gone back down to the subbasement. They were standing at opposite sides of the room, but both fell to the floor dead as lasers met their necks and Mao pulled his triggers.

Whirling around, he strode to the lounge door, placed the pistols into their holsters, and drew the assault rifle. Kicking this door open as well, he was met by five more scientists who bolted upright in horror at the sight of Mao's rifle.

_Oh my god! Oh my god!_

_Who in the world?_

_Are we under attack?_

"What's going on?" one managed to shout.

Another one, a woman, let out a scream just as Mao opened fire, sweeping the room from side to side in a burst of hot metal. Papers and dust flew up into the air amidst the shower of their blood as the wooden book shelves collapsed into piles of splint wood and paper carnage. Mao took a moment to wipe the small specks of blood that had splattered across his helmet.

He made his way back out into the dim hall and carefully opened the steel door at the end, peering through to the other side.

_How strange she looks while sleeping…_

_These readings are just incredible! The General will be most pleased._

Mao slowly stepped out into the room beyond the thick door and dropped down to his hands and knees, somewhat obscured by the railing along the stairs. He took a moment to safely survey his surroundings. It was a tall room with a vaulted ceiling. A railed, grated walkway ran along the entire length of the structure at midlevel, with two stairwells descending to the floor below where a team of researchers and scientists input and interpreted the data from the computer array C.C. was wired into. Hanging on the wall were an assortment of special white suits similar in design to the straight jacket Mao had once worn.

Haphazardly laid out upon the tables were scores of what looked to be digital scans of various parchments as well as several photographs. And at the edge near the wall were stored a row of massive dark spherical tanks, long rivets extending from their surfaces.

A Professor Matthias and Rupert Deneuvre himself stood by, watching the activity as they held a furtive discussion.

"_What are Code-R's plans for her? What are you trying to do here? Why is Rosenberg being shut out?"_

"_You're not being shut out. We have several elites handpicked from Rosenberg here as well as yourself, of course. But General Bartley wants the research kept quiet and is taking his orders directly from Prince Clovis. We don't yet know their designs. You must admit this is an incredible opportunity though." __Luckily, I'm not concerned with fame, or I would chafe at being unable to publish my findings__. The experimental process is so much more satisfying after all...__  
_

"_But if she falls into the wrongs hands, she could be a dangerous liability."_

"_There's no chance of that. No one knows what we're doing here."_

Slowly Mao crawled across the walkway, staring at the group below, unable to take his eyes from C.C.. She was clothed in one of those straight jackets that looked horribly uncomfortable, sleeping under the influence of a cocktail of sedatives and muscle relaxants.

Suddenly, however, he heard another thought—

_What the hell happened here? "Nagato, look at all these bodies!"_

_Did someone get here first? "It doesn't matter. Stick to the plan. It must be underground somewhere. Blow out the floor!"_

So someone had found the bodies in the guardhouse. That much was apparent. But Mao didn't have time to probe further because the room's lights began flashing as sirens wailed.

_The alarm!_

_What the?_

"What's going on?" Deneuvre demanded.

"The plate sensors have been activated by some type of Knightmare Frame," a scientist with combed blonde hair and spectacles read from a nearby monitor. "They're programmed to alert when the weight threshold is exceeded. Someone must have breached the guardhouse then."

"But who would-!"

"-Have the girl secured!" Professor Matthias barked.

Scientists rushed to their keyboards, imputing a few quick commands, while other aides undid C.C.'s straps and laid her body upon the floor. Mao's eyes widened as he discovered their intent, however. A panel beneath where they had laid C.C. opened to reveal two curved halves with long rivets jutting out from their surface. They snapped together to form one of those airtight metallic capsules stored along the wall, a compressed chamber with C.C. now locked inside.

"The subject is secure," one of the doctors relayed.

"We need to move her to another location," Doctor Matthias instructed. "Ready a transport and use the tunnels. The General is strict about these protocols."

"Right away, sir!" came the unanimous reply as they ran quickly to complete the necessary tasks.

"And don't forget the data!" Deneuvre barked, drawing a scowl from the Professor.

"NOOOOOO!" Mao shouted, bolting to his feet with the rifle in hand.

"What in the world-!" a scientist shouted, whirling around. But his last words were silenced as Mao pulled the trigger, spraying the room with bullets in haphazard sweeps, sending men diving in all directions for cover.

_Some kind of terrorist? How the hell did he get in here?_

Deneuvre swung behind the device holding C.C. and drew his own pistol, waiting out the attack.

"Let her go!" Mao shouted as he emptied the magazine into the room, shredding computer equipment in a shower of sparks, along with anyone stupid enough to break their sparse cover.

"NO! Not the equipment!" Professor Matthias shouted, drawing Mao's fire. A few shots made it into his side and he fell to the floor gasping, rolling in agony from the stinging pain.

_Now!_

Deneuvre broke cover for a moment to squeeze off a few rounds at Mao's position, one of which struck him in the gut and sent him rolling down the stairs. As he fell, however, he let his empty rifle drop and drew a pistol, covering his roll with wild fire, driving Deneuvre back behind the sphere. Crawling to cover, he focused on Deneuvre. The scientist with blonde hair took off running up the stairs, followed by two others, likely to make it to the control room and salvage the research. Mao would have to deal with them later, pressed as he was. "They'll likely contact General Bartley which means…the _real _military will be here soon. I have to end this," Mao muttered. The other scientists were too paralyzed with fear to move, hiding behind sparse cover for their lives.

_How did a terrorist breach this facility? I told Bartley he should have stationed more guards here!_

Mao ejected the spent magazine and loaded another, then switched the military grade issue handgun for the one he bought in China—his last ammunition for the pistols.

_Only four rounds left in this magazine. Glad there's a spare in my pocket._

Mao scowled.

"We…have…to…move her out of…here," Doctor Matthias strained, coughing blood.

"I know," Deneuvre called out. "Don't worry. I can take care of one damn terrorist."

_Why is there blood all over the panel-oh my god Dale! He killed them too? _

_Everyone else is dead! They're all dead!  
_

_"Gather the data you can and use the tunnels to get out of the ghetto. We can't go back to the guardhouse."  
_

Deciding it was then or never, Mao sprang to his feet and ran whilst the man was distracted by the brief interchange. It happened so fast, so unexpectedly, that Deneuvre found himself caught off guard. Mao was running straight for him, wielding dual pistols, and all Deneuvre could do was bolt upright and raise his own gun just in time to find himself in a stalemate.

Each had the other in sight, each had their finger resting tentatively over the trigger. But neither could be sure who would fire first. His Geass couldn't enable Mao to predict muscle reflexes. And so they waited.

_Maybe I can distract him?_

"And you would be?" Deneuvre asked, concealing his nervousness.

"You mean you don't remember me?" Mao baited.

_That _threw him off guard and he studied the man before him more carefully.

"Allow me," Mao assured him, freeing his hand to remove the helmet and casting it aside, revealing a pale face with platinum hair and terribly crimson eyes. A face Deneuvre knew he had seen before.

_Where I have seen him? I know that face!_

"This face?" Mao repeated and the man blinked in confusion. "I believe you saw it last in China. RF-442?"

Deneuvre's eyes widened as realization dawned in his mind. "The man from the psychiatric ward! You-you killed Doctor Huai didn't you!" he stammered, clearly taken aback. _How did he find me? What does he even want?_

_I hope the landspinners will stabilize when he hit the sub!  
_

"Correct," Mao confirmed, about to break him. However, he paused, looking up warily for a moment. The ceiling began to buckle under a great weight and then, before anyone could react, came crashing down amidst a hail of gunfire—large rounds that split open the floor into broken tiles. The Frame landed in a kind of split, quickly speeding across the floor toward them with a screech.

Mao and Deneuvre merely stared ahead in shock, their mouths agape. After a moment, however, they turned towards each other and their eyes widened as recollection set in. Without a word, they dove out of the machine's path.

_Oh my god! He has a Knightmare Frame too!_ Deneuvre panicked. _How the hell did they find this place? It's top secret._

_"That's right! You know full well what this badass mother can do!"__  
_

But Mao was just as confused. Though his query was quickly replaced by the sounds of the other researchers screaming in terror as they abandoned their cover and tried to flee up the stairs.

_Cowardly Britannians! You're gonna pay for what you've done here!_

The mechanical suit leveled its massive automatic rifle at the fleeing crowd and let it rip, shredding the entire stairwell apart as the bodies fell into a broken heap below.

_It's a Glasgow!_

Deneuvre leveled his pistol at the machine, firing off his magazine to no effect. In reply, the pilot released a volley of missiles from robotic wrists, throwing everyone back with a blast of concussive force and blistering heat. Fires swept through the room now, fed by the oxygen streaming in from the massive hole in the ceiling which cut all the way to the ground above.

"Kallen Kozuki…Stadtfeld, a student at Ashford Academy," Mao muttered, hastily probing the pilot's mind, his back resting against an overturned steel table for cover, avoiding the puddle of saline solution and other dubious chemicals flowing across the floor. His eyes began to water from the sting. "She's a Japanese resistance fighter…"

The Glasgow spun around and gripped the capsule holding C.C. with both arms, hefting it up into the air.

"_I've got the weapon!"_

"No, no, NO!" Mao shouted as he emerged from cover, shotgun drawn. He fired off several quick rounds in rapid succession, pumping repeatedly, but doing little more than spark against the armored frame.

Deneuvre tore out the phone from his pocket and frantically dialed a number. "General! General!"

"_Deneuvre? What can I do for you? I'm with the Prince right now."_

"Code-R is under attack! I repeat, the project has been compromised!" Deneuvre shouted.

_What? "What of the girl?"_

"The terrorists are taking her!"

_Dammit! "Who are they?  
_

"No idea, sir, but get some Sutherlands over here to take them out!"

"_Where are they headed?"_

_You pompous ass! _"I have no bloody idea!" Deneuvre shouted in exasperation, severing the connection.

_These bastards are such a waste of time._

The Glasgow fired its slash harkens off—one at Deneuvre, one at Mao. Deneuvre was thrown against the wall, his body breaking under the shock, but Mao knew it was coming and was able to evade, the device instead embedding itself into the reinforced concrete.

"_It won't pull out!"_

"_Kallen, get out of there!"_

_Whatever, I'm done here_, the pilot thought as she ejected the broken weapon from the mechanical arm.

Clutching the capsule against its metallic chest, the machine fired off its remaining grapple at the broken ridge above to pull itself out through the rubble, where a long white truck was waiting.

"Stop!" Mao shouted angrily as the Frame secured C.C.'s capsule in the back of the truck before jumping in herself.

"_Drive Nagato!"_

There was a squeal of rubber as the truck sped away down the streets above. "C.C.!" Mao screamed, his hand outstretched toward the fleeing vehicle. He strained his Geass to stay with them. "They think it's a biological weapon!," he muttered. "They want to disperse it in the Britannian Concession area."

And then he noticed the eerie silence that had settled over the complex. The three remaining scientists had fled the facility entirely for the moment. Everyone else was dead, except him. And C.C. was ripped from his grasp yet again. His heart ached. He had been _so_ close. He began to cry quietly.

"Why…?" he repeated.

_Have…to…retrieve…the…girl_

Mao stopped. Not everyone was dead. His face contorting into an enraged snarl, he whipped out his pistol and walked over to the broken form of Rupert Deneuvre who could merely stare up at him dazed.

"You son of a bitch," Deneuvre spat, blood mingling with his saliva. "You've…ruined everything."

Aiming his pistol for the man's chest, Mao pulled the trigger without a second thought. Again. And again. And again. And yet again. He quickly fired what was left of the entire magazine into Deneuvre's body, ignoring his shouts of pain. Even after it was empty he continued to pull the trigger, the dry click of the firing mechanism warning him it was out of ammunition.

But Mao didn't care. He stared at the pistol in disappointment and with a roar flipped it over to grip it by the barrel. A crazed look flashed in his eyes as Mao savagely struck Deneuvre's bleeding corpse with the handle repeatedly. In a blind rage, he did it over and over, laying into him as skin began to tear and blood vessels burst in the more tender parts of the body, covering Mao in his gore. But still Mao continued, tears now staining his eyes as he shouted, "Tā māde! Cào! Cào! CAO! Wángbādàn! Sǐ pì yǎn!", random obscenities he had learned through his terrible Geass as a child pouring from his mouth amidst a flurry of anguished spittle. "Gǔnkāi! Gǔnkāi!"

Finally, when the body did not even resemble a human anymore, Mao dropped the gun, physically exhausted, and fell to his knees, his rage spent. He looked down at his blood soaked hands in horror; bodies splayed out across the room only a few steps away. His face, too, was smeared with blood, his hair matted. Flames roared all around him, belching thick dark smoke into the air. The stench which he had ignored before was suddenly too much to bear.

He had to get out of there. Had to keep moving.

* * *

**Endsong: ****"I Won't See You Tonight Part 2" by Avenged Sevenfold**


	14. Watching Mao

**Author's Notes: ****Mao certainly starts out with a childish view of morality—He and C.C. are good and anybody who gets in the way are bad, with the all the other people in between treated with indifference so long as they leave him alone. But I do believe his experiences darkened him as will be seen. And Mao is definitely more action-oriented than Lelouch, probably a side effect of his youth (he grew up having to survive in the wild which would arguably give him a strong, rugged constitution, though he's clearly too thin—unlike Lelouch who is used to relative luxury and very physically weak as a consequence).  
**

**Music Recommendation:** **"Prologue" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the _Code Geass: _****_Lelouch of the Rebellion Soundtrack_, followed by "0" from the same and ****"Nach Deutschland" by John Powell from _The Bourne _**_**Supremacy Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Watching Mao**_

Mao sat in the richly carpeted floor of his suite, his elbows resting on the little table upon which sat a portable computer and a copy of the public registry.

He had been hiding here for several days in the wake of the assault on Code-R, his focus riveted to the internet and news networks. It was frustrating, how close he had been, only to have her ripped away from his grasp.

The media had reported that Shinjuku Ghetto had been 'sealed off to deal with poison gas', even going so far as to record massive Eleven casualties. It was the connection that interested him most, though. From what he had been able to glean from her mind, Kallen Kozuki had sought to take the capsule to Tokyo Settlement, with the intent of releasing a virus and killing the Britannians in the Concession area, unaware that the capsule contained his beloved. "Something must've happened that prevented them from leaving Shinjuku and it's from that point that the military seems to have taken control of everything," he muttered, reading over the available articles, though the details were sketchy. "What is most worrisome," Mao mused. "Is not knowing whether or not the Britannian military was able to recapture C.C.. The news doesn't tell you anything around here. What if they took her all the way to the Directorate like they planned? Or worse yet, Britannia?" Mao rubbed his eyes wearily. "It doesn't matter. I'll cross the ocean again to reach her if I have to," he decided resolutely.

Mao had also found the address of the Stadtfeld family estate, but decided that, even if Kallen was still alive and still had C.C., she, being a Japanese resistance fighter, would never take her to her Britannian family, who were recognized political conservatives.

"And Clovis is dead now," Mao muttered, reading over the headlines. Apparently, someone had murdered the Prince whilst in his military convoy. A ranking Knight, Jeremiah Gottwald had taken over as Consul, even having General Bartley arrested and deported back to Britannia. The media had identified the killer as Suzaku Kururugi, an Honorary Britannian soldier. "Well, I won't have to bother killing him myself. And now the General is out of my reach as well," Mao mused. "So the primary conspirators behind Code R—Prince Clovis, General Bartley, Rupert Deneuvre, Professor Matthias—are either dead or soon will be in the General's case."

A soft drawl could be heard radiating from the television on the far side of the small room, occasionally drawing his eyes, which were bleary and bloodshot from lack of sleep.

"_It will soon be the time_," a newscaster read his script, inserting just enough inflection to convey a sense of emotion. "_Take a look." _A large "LIVE" adorned the top right corner.

"_The crowd is gathered along this road, patiently waiting_," the program continued dramatically. Mao turned his attention to the screen. There _was _a large crowd, stretching the length of the highway on both sides in anticipation. "_They are waiting for the Eleven and former Honorary Britannian citizen, Private Kururugi_ _to come down this very road."_ After a few moments, an armored motorcade, escorted by four Britannian Sutherland Knightmare Frames could be seen driving down past the crowds and cameras. "_I see them! The suspect, Suzaku Kururugi, will be here in just a moment!" _The crowd began to work itself into a frenzy, shouting obscenities and slurs at the suspect. _"Damn Eleven!" _one particularly loud voice called out. The dirty face of the young man—dark hair, hazel eyes-wearing a surprisingly serene expression, could be seen close up; two guards flanking him on either side of his tightly bound form with their assault rifles.

"_A call of anger rises from the crowd! This call is proof of how much His Highness was loved! It is the voice of justice, demanding that the terrorist be judged!" _Like a magician, the crowd responded obediently to every word, mirroring the commentary. "_Lord Jeremiah, who solved the case himself and is presiding over the trial, has come out to lead the guard as interim steward." _Suddenly, the Lord Jeremiah could be seen conversing with someone over a headset and he raised a hand high, shouting, "_All stop!_"

"_This was not a scheduled stop," _the reporter announced as the motorcade came to halt in the middle of the road, the Sutherlands moving into a defensive formation.

"What's going on?" Mao heard himself mutter.

"_Was there an accident of some kind?" _the reporter mused, unsure of what to say now that the event had departed from his script. "_I-It's Prince Clovis' own vehicle!" _Sure enough, the luxurious sports car belonging to the late Prince Clovis, emblazoned with the flag of the Holy Britannian Empire, came speeding down the highway to meet the procession.

"_Come out, you who dare sully His Highness' carriage!" _Lord Jeremiah demanded imperiously, his eyes darting quickly to the camera to make sure his dramatic performance was being displayed. The automobile came to a stop, only a few meters away and suddenly, as if in reply, the Britannian flag burned away, revealing a tall man concealed by an elegant cape and a gothic mask, shaped rather like a chess piece; the lingering embers floating around him merely adding to his striking appearance.

"_I am Zero!" _the masked figure announced to the stunned crowds.

"Well that was unexpected," Mao mused, his curiosity growing. "I almost wish I were closer, I might be able to hear his thoughts."

"_Wh-Who on Earth could this person be?" _the announcer stammered, forgetting all about the program for a moment. "_He calls himself Zero and is now standing atop the car! Who is this Zero? If he is seeking to disrupt the ceremony, this is a foolish move indeed!"_

A shot rang out into the air, apparently from Lord Jeremiah's outstretched pistol. _"Very well, Zero. But this is the end of your little show!"_ he dared as four more Sutherlands surrounded Clovis' vehicle. A deafening silence had fallen over the crowd as everyone seemed to hold their breath.

"_Now then," _Lord Jeremiah continued. "_I'd like you take off that mask!" _

What happened next, no one could predict. The masked figure called Zero raised a hand to his face and snapped his fingers. Without warning a spotlight illuminated him as the opulent frame of the vehicle fell away to reveal a large riveted capsule. Mao bolted upright, eyes wide, as he stared in shock. It was the capsule C.C. had been locked in!

"_Lord Jeremiah, that's—" _a dark-skinned woman began, climbing out of her Sutherland, but a hand from the Lord silenced her.

"_Viewers at home,_" the reporter narrated. "_Can you see this? It seems to be some sort of machine, but its purpose is unknown. The man thought to be a terrorist is making his proclamation, so please wait a moment!"_

The confident Lord leveled his pistol at Zero's figure.

"_Go ahead and fire. You cannot possibly miss," _Zero goaded.

"_What do you want_," Lord Jeremiah asked guardedly, changing tactics for the moment.

"_A trade," _Zero replied calmly. "_This for Suzaku Kururugi."_

"Trade?" Mao repeated. "You idiot! Wait…what if he's already removed C.C.?"

"_No!" _Lord Jeremiah protested. "_This man killed Prince Clovis! I cannot hand him over!"_

"_No, you're wrong, Jeremiah_," Zero countered. "_He didn't do it. The one who really killed Prince Clovis, was I!" _he shouted, staring directly into the eyes of the television cameras.

Mao's eyes narrowed. "So that's it then? Is he lying to save Kururugi? Or…does he really have C.C. And some kind of special power like me? A power that would enable him to bypass Clovis' guards for example…"

Murmurs began to spread through the crowd once more as they processed the revelation.

"_The real culprit? He just confessed! The masked man calling himself Zero has said that he himself is the culprit!" _the narrator declared excitedly. It seemed he had completely thrown out the script by now. "_Now what will happen to Private Kururugi, currently in custody?_"

"_In return for a single Eleven, you can save the lives of hundreds of Britannians," _Zero pressed. _"That's not a bad deal, I think."_

"So he's still pretending it contains poison gas. It seems they believe him, too, which means they don't know about C.C.," Mao muttered gratefully. "But this Zero—he would've undoubtedly checked its contents before making such a threat. He has to know."

"_This man is insane!" _Lord Jeremiah spat, clearly on edge. "_I challenge your confession, you who use His Highness' carriage to your own perverted ends!"_

"_Are you sure?" _Zero replied cooly. "_You'll sully your own reputation, Orange. If I die, you will certainly regret it."_

"_What are you talking about?" _Lord Jeremiah demanded.

"_What are you going to do?" _Zero pressed as the car pulled forward slightly. After it stopped once more, he shouted, "_Let us all go! That man as well!_"

"_Very well_," Lord Jeremiah replied. _"Give him that man,_" he ordered, turning toward his subordinates.

"W-What just happened?" Mao asked, confused.

"_Lord Jeremiah!" _the dark-skinned pilot protested._ "What are you doing?"_

"_Give him that man!" _Lord Jeremiah repeated, raising his voice.

The guards flanking Kururugi shuffled awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"_Release him! No one is to interfere!" _Lord Jeremiah barked angrily.

"_What are you thinking? Is this part of your plan?" _another soldier demanded as the argument continued.

"_Duke Kewell, this is an order!_" Jeremiah retorted, seemingly furious over the disrespect of his subordinates.

"_It would seem they're releasing Private Kururugi!" _the newscaster narrated in surprise. The murmurs of the crowds grew loud indeed as Suzaku Kururugi strode up to Zero who came to meet him, joined by his driver.

After a short conversation which Mao couldn't make out, Zero appeared to press a switch of some kind. Suddenly, the rivets adorning the large capsule began spewing a thick cloud of purple smoke into the air, blanketing the area in gas and obscuring the broadcast.

"No!" Mao protested frantically as the image vanished. A horrified scream could be heard spreading through the crowds, the fearful onlookers running away in terror. Suddenly a brief bout of gunfire, probably from a Knightmare, joined the audio, but it was quickly silenced.

When the smoke finally cleared, both Zero and Kururugi were gone, leaving Mao staring at the screen in bewilderment, his mind racing.

"So many questions now," he muttered, thinking through the details. "Zero clearly had the capsule which held C.C. in his possession, which means he had to have obtained it from that Kozuki pilot I encountered in Shinjuku. He also claims to have killed Prince Clovis. The Prince was found dead in his own convoy, surrounded by an army of security guards. A very difficult feat, to be sure, for someone not part of the military unlike Kururugi," he muttered quickly. "And now he convinced this Lord Jeremiah to release the Eleven to him and he did so against the advice of his own soldiers. He was so unwilling before…but his demeanor seemed to completely change after…he mentioned 'Orange'. What was that all about?" Mao sighed. "Too many questions."

But one thing was certain, Zero knew where C.C. was. What he couldn't determine yet, and what worried him far worse, was whether or not Zero might have Geass. Given the nature of the events in question, it at least seemed within the realm of possibility and that would be a much more difficult problem for him.

Mao switched off the television wearily. It was late. But he couldn't rest yet, he realized, if he wanted to find some answers.

Putting on his coat and visor, he gathered up his pistol and descended the stairs to the street below, locking the door behind him. It was a dark, quiet night; most of the people trying to sleep by now.

_"You're so kind, Mao. And gentle and caring." _

Mao checked the chamber of the gun held snug in his palm. "I probably won't need to kill anybody for this though," he mumbled, his voice low."It won't be as fun as last time... But if I don't get it this way, I won't. There's no way the Britannian media will allow it on the internet." Returning it back under his coat, he took out a map again, following the streets just as it said. "I think I'm learning my way around here better and better," he mused cheerfully as he turned down a much wider road, flanked by towering buildings on each side, surrounded by the intricate labyrinth of the expansive Britannian monorail system.

"It should be right down here," Mao said as he came within sight of a particularly enormous building. According to the map, it was the central broadcasting headquarters of the Britannian Area 11 television network, Hi-TV.

Finding a shadowy spot, he leaned inconspicuously against the wall, keeping an eye on the well lit double doors. Waiting.

Eventually, a man came out. He was rather short, with a crop of combed over brown hair and large glasses.

_Finally, time to go home. I've never had so many calls to the station before! Thought I'd be there all night._

"Brantley Hall," Mao muttered.

Taking the sidewalk, Brantley had almost made it to his car when Mao stepped out, his face concealed behind the shadows, a pistol drawn against him.

The man's eyes widened beneath his glasses as he slowly raised his hands.

_Shit…_

"Yes," Mao intoned carefully. "Your name is Brantley Hall. You're son's name is Willy," he added, using the father's most affectionate term in order to stir his emotions.

_How does he know my name? How does he know my son?_

"Y-You want money?" he stammered weakly.

Mao shook his head. "No, I need a favor from you. If you comply, both you _and _you're son will be fine. If you don't…" Mao's voice trailed off, letting him imagine the details.

_If he knows about my son, he has to know where we live. Oh god, please let Willy be alright. What does he want anyway?_

Brantley nodded quickly. "What do you want?"

"I need you to return to the station and, calmly, make your way to the archives and retrieve the recording of Suzaku Kururugi's procession trial which aired tonight. Conceal it somehow and bring it back to me, without arousing suspicion," Mao explained. "If you attempt to alert anyone of my presence or involve the authorities in any way, I'll know immediately and your son will be as good as dead."

_The procession? Zero! Is this man working for Zero, then? Trying to eliminate the evidence, perhaps._

"Y-you know," Brantley began. "Even if I bring you the recording, there'll still be plenty of copies. Is…that a problem?"

"I just want one," Mao replied quickly, glancing around for a moment. "And don't worry—no one will be able to trace the exchange to you."

_So…what's his aim then?_

"If you don't return quickly, it will appear more suspicious," Mao warned. "Pretend you forgot something at your station in front of Gibson."

"Right, right," Brantley agreed, nodding profusely as he made his way back inside. _He even knows Gibson? How long has he been planning this? It just aired tonight? Did he find a company roster somehow? Forget it. I'm stuck. It's just one tape, after all. It's not a big deal. A bit unconventional perhaps, but it's not illegal. No one will know._

Mao leaned against wall once more, keeping his Geass fixed on the man's mind for any abnormalities that would require him to abort the plan. But, it seemed he was dealing with a wise man here, for he retrieved the disc and successfully smuggled it out of the complex, just as instructed.

Quickly, he walked up to Mao and held out the recording, looking away.

_Oh no! I hope he doesn't think it's a fake… I couldn't prove it here_

Carefully, Mao took the disc from him and slid it into his coat, never taking his eyes off the man. "Thank you, Mr. Hall," he replied as he slowly stepped back into the darkness of the alley. "Remember, no one needs to know about this. If someone notices its absence, pretend you don't know. It will be ignored. That's just the way people are. And have a good night."

_Tsk, saying a thing like that after you've ruined any chance I had of sleeping…_

For a while, the man was afraid to take his eyes away from the dark alley, but, eventually, he did return to his vehicle and drive away home. Shaken, but alive.

Returning to his own apartment, Mao removed his coat and laid the pistol on the table. Inserting the disc into the media player, Mao poured himself a glass of milk, turned off all the lights, and sat down. Once more the curious events of the evening played themselves out before him, the faint blue light from the screen casting a cool glow across his face.

He paused it several times, rewinding it as needed, to study Zero's figure and actions. He paid particular attention to the events preceding Lord Jeremiah's sudden surrender, but, with the mask and the distance of the cameras, it was impossible to make anything definitive out. However, one thing appeared suspicious—the strange way the car pulled forward a meter or so before Lord Jeremiah agreed. "Did someone's foot slip on the pedal? Why did he move forward by such a slight amount?" Mao asked absently.

Taking a break, Mao switched on the regular broadcast, curious if any new details had emerged.

"_The military court has received word from the suspect. It seems that Zero released him. But the charges against Private Kururugi have been thrown into serious doubt. I wouldn't be surprised if they exonerate him completely."_

"_And what of this mysterious man?" _a reporter asked.

"_We still have no details concerning the man calling himself Zero," _the announcer replied, raising a hand to silence the inevitable frenzied clamor that overtook the room. It seems everyone else was having the same problem—just too many questions.

Mao bit his lip and switched back to the recording, rewinding and playing it yet again. "Who are you, Zero?" Mao muttered. "And what have you done with my C.C.?"


	15. Waiting Mao: Know Your Enemy

**Author's Note: Here we are at ****a brief respite before the inevitable escalating conflict. My apologies to all for any punctuation errors—it always frustrates me that no matter how many times I proof a manuscript, there are STILL errors to be found. Also, I realize the last chapter (and this one as well), is kind of boring, but I feel it is necessary to explain Mao's (more interesting) subsequent actions. So please bear with me and keep reading.**

**Music Recommendation:****"Misa no Theme B" by Taniuchi Hideki from the **_**DEATH NOTE Original Soundtrack II, **_**followed by "Mello no Theme" by the same from the _DEATH NOTE Original Soundtrack III_**_**  
**_

* * *

_**Waiting Mao**_

**(Know Your Enemy)**_**  
**_

It had been a couple of rather uneventful weeks. Second Princess Cornelia li Britannia had come to Area 11 to take charge as Viceroy with the express aim of apprehending Zero, her brother's self-professed murderer. Her first action was to cordon off the Saitama Ghetto and_ purge_ it of terrorists. It was a bittersweet development as far as Mao was concerned. Mao had thought of Doragoniki, the kindly dealer who had sold him his weapons. But he was probably dead now.

"While I could certainly use Cornelia and her forces to locate and identify Zero for me…if C.C. is with him, then she would just be exposed to Britannia again," Mao mused. "I can't ignore the possibility that Zero may try to use C.C. as a bargaining ploy if Cornelia puts too much pressure on him either… But then Britannia would face a dilemma—whether to accept the trade and thus admit C.C.'s existence or not. Either way, it seems I can't rely on anyone else."

Mao had gone over the recording of Zero's daring rescue of Suzaku Kururugi hundreds of times, but couldn't find any clues. Zero had been too careful.

Looking over the map laid out on the table, he paused when he came to the circled mark of Ashford Academy. "The only venue left is…Kallen Stadtfeld. She was definitely the pilot of the Knightmare that took C.C. in Shinjuku. Zero had the capsule, so she must be working with him. And she's a student at Ashford Academy," Mao muttered, thinking over the facts he knew thus far.

"_Yes, I'm standing here at the Lake Kawaguchi Hotel Convention Centre. The hotel-jackers have named themselves the "Japan Liberation Front". The members of the Sakuradite Distribution Council, including Chairman James, as well as tourists who happened to be staying there and hotel staff, have been taken hostage. This is a video from the criminals," _the television played, drawing Mao's attention. The screen showed several grim-faced Elevens wearing dull uniforms pointing automatic rifles at a crowd of Britannian tourists who held their hands to their heads fearfully.

"_In addition to Chairman James, you can see students in there_," a brown-haired woman wearing a pressed suit continued_. _"_The leader of the hotel-jackers is a man calling himself Colonel Kusakabe, from the former Japanese Army. Sakuradite is a critical component in the manufacture of high-temperature superconductors, making it a strategic resource with planet-wide security implications. Area 11 is the world's largest producer of Sakuradite, responsible for seventy percent of the supply on the market." _The camera panned up, displaying the central tower of the Convention Centre for effect.

"_The yearly Sakuradite Producing Nations conference held here decides the international distribution rate of Sakuradite. It's fair to say that the results of this discussion decide the balance of power between us Britannians and the rest of the world. It's thought that the terrorists chose this time to take action because the entire world's attention is focused here."_

"Is Zero involved with this?" Mao asked absently.

The camera switched to an obviously irate man with disheveled brown hair (clearly he had not had time for such mundane concerns as of late), surrounded by a crowd of sympathetic reporters and other concerned relatives.

"_I'm here with Joseph Fenette, the father of Shirley, one of the students from Ashford Academy currently being held hostage by the terrorists,_" a reporter announced. "_What do you think of your daughter, Shirley's—" _the interviewer began.

"—_She was just there on vacation!" _the desperate man interjected. He turned toward the camera, his eyes still wet from tears as he pleaded_, "She's still just a student and those terrorists don't give a damn! I'll never forgive them. Is Shirley—is my daughter safe? She's done nothing wrong!"_

"So…students from Ashford Academy are there. What about Kallen though? If this is Zero's doing, she's with him somewhere," Mao muttered, processing the information. "Well, going to Ashford right now is pointless then."

He kept the news on almost constantly now, waiting for further details regarding Zero, but so far the majority of the media had been relatively silent concerning the subject—probably so as to not give the vanguard any more publicity. But, from what Mao could tell, one station had ignored this taboo—Hi-TV, the same station he had acquired the footage of Zero's first public appearance from. It constantly played clips of that night as well as panels of commentators endlessly discussing the terrorist and his motives. It made Mao wonder if the station might be connected to Zero somehow, controlled by him even. "It makes sense that Zero would want someone inside the media to cover his exploits. It's certainly a connection that warrants further investigation," Mao mused.

Looking through the public registry, he found the telephone number for Hi-TV, a new plan forming in his mind. Leaving the television on, he took the stairs outside to the street and walked a few blocks till he found a public telephone booth. "A public phone sure is scarce around here… I suppose since most Britannians own their own phones, unlike in China. After all I _am_ in the Concession area," Mao mused as he entered the glass enclosure and slid the door closed. Taking the phone in his hand he checked the registry and input the number. It rang several times before someone finally answered. Mao let the headphones C.C. had given him fall to his neck, timing the deft motion exactly so as to focus his Geass upon the mind of the person coming on the line.

_This damn phone has been ringing off the hook like crazy… What do people want from me? Don't they realize we're busy!_

"Hello, this is Hi-TV. How may I help you?" a frustrated voice answered.

Mao smiled, recognizing the mind of Brantley Hall, the man who had _helped _him before. "Yes, I'm calling to complain that Hi-TV's coverage of Zero is simply excessive! Don't you people realize all you're doing is giving the terrorists free publicity, invigorating them to pursue further action?" Mao warned angrily.

_I knew this was gonna happen! What the hell is wrong with Diethard? Who is this anyway? Oh, it's an anonymous call. Great, I hope this isn't one of Cornelia's people..._

"Uh…well…" Brantley fumbled.

"The other stations recognize this. They're covering this menace with professional discretion. You people are being completely disrespectful to His Highness Clovis!" Mao pressed, suppressing a fit of laughter.

"I understand your concern," Brantley managed. "We apologize for offending you in this way. I assure you this station deeply respects former Viceroy Clovis. We regularly work together with the administration in order to combat terrorism through information control."

_Generally, we're not supposed to talk about our work with the government, but in this case I think I can make an exception._

"Will you not admit that your station is devoting more attention to Zero than any other in Area 11?" Mao demanded.

_He's not buying it…_

"…Yes, I believe I would have to agree," Brantley admitted nervously.

"Why is that? Is the subject being covered inadequately by the other stations?" Mao pressed, drawing the noose tighter.

"N-No," Brantley stammered. "Please, sir, I don't run this station. I just work here, alright?"

_Maybe I can transfer him to someone else?_

"Well, by whose authority is this being covered?" Mao asked, keeping his voice stern.

_Well, Diethard this is your fault so I'll let you deal with it! Yeah, that's it._

"Well, our producer and chief of staff is Diethard Ried. He's the guy who really determines the broadcasts," Brantley explained.

"I demand to speak with him then," Mao ordered imperiously.

"What? Right now?" Brantley asked, bewildered.

"Yes, immediately," Mao repeated.

_This guy won't take 'no' for an answer…_

"Alright, I'll connect you to his number? Does that sound good?" Brantley asked carefully. "Wait just a moment."

The line went quiet for a few moments before another man, with a much deeper voice, came on the line.

"Yes, this is Diethard. You wanted to speak with me?" the stern voice demanded.

_Honestly, that Brantley is such an incompetent ass. He can't even man the phones…_

Mao smirked, probing the man's subconscious as he replied, "Yes. I want to know why you are devoting an excessive amount of coverage to Zero—who is a terrorist and the self-proclaimed murderer of Prince Clovis. Don't you realize all you're doing is aiding his cause?"

_Hmph, what a fool. Doesn't he realize a new era is taking form. Zero will topple over the empire and take this world for his own. He could be the Napoleon of our age!_

"I assure you, we—"

But Mao wasn't finished. "—It would be to Zero's advantage to have someone working for him from within the media. It is an explanation that may bring down the ire of Her Highness Cornelia upon Hi-TV," Mao threatened.

_Working…with Zero? That…what an idea! I could document history as it happens…_

"I assure you, the motivation behind our broadcasts is not treason or conspiracy, but viewer ratings. Our network is one of the top stations. Why? Because we have a unique ability to discover and cater to viewer tastes. The populace at large is very interested in Zero and the numbers support this. It is pragmatism, not radicalism that motivates here," Diethard explained calmly.

"Very well, then," Mao replied, wrapping it up. He had what he came for. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with me."

_See, that wasn't so hard. It seems you still have much to learn about public relations, Brantley._

"Of course. And, as always, thank you for watching Hi-TV," Diethard agreed, severing the connection.

Quickly replacing his headphones, Mao hung up the phone and left the booth.

_"What are you thinking about, Mao?" _C.C.'s voice asked. _"Isn't it nice to be able to talk to other people again? Isn't it nice to just think?"_

"So Diethard secretly admires Zero…but he has no concrete connection with him. Too bad," Mao muttered as he passed by several Eleven storefronts, begging their Britannian masters for business.

_A customer! _"Good sir, try a _kabob_?" a woman suddenly pleaded in broken English. "They're delicious! I have both chili and yogurt sauce—whichever you prefer. Both very tasty."

_Please, please buy one. I really need the money! I won't be able to pay my dealer tonight at this rate._

"Uh…I'm not really hungry," Mao replied, rubbing his head painfully.

_No, he's mine. _"No, of course not, you want a nice bottle of wine, no?," another seller, a man, shouted at him. "I steep it myself—very fresh, very fine!"

"I don't drink," Mao countered gently, feeling overwhelmed by their persistence.

_Doesn't drink? Damn, why does someone like that have to be here?_

"What about a garland of cherry blossoms?" another begged, startling him. "They're quite beautiful and only grow in Japan!" She didn't look over twelve. _There's no way he'll buy from me… Who wants a bunch of useless flowers? But it's all I can find to sell… My needle's almost out._

"Hey! This isn't Japan anymore, you bitch!" a nearby Britannian shouted contemptuously. "It's Area 11 of the Holy _Britannian _Empire."

"I-So sorry!" the woman replied quickly, bowing her head repeatedly. "Please forgive my impertinence. It was just a slip of the tongue." _Oh dear…what do I do?_

"You're lucky I don't report you. They're looking _real _hard for terrorists right now, you know," the rude man mocked. _Ooh she looks scared…_

Mao had had enough. "Do you know what else they're looking for?" he quipped, turning towards him.

"What? Hey, don't interrupt me when I'm—" the Britannian began.

"—They're also looking for people who cheat on their tax returns. Like people who make a bunch of money through prostitution in Babel Tower and then falsify their financial records. People like you, Mr. Grimaldi," Mao threatened, probing his mind.

The man's eyes widened as he stepped back. "What—what are you talking about?" he managed.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Mao pressed, lowering his visor to flash his glaring eyes, staring him down.

For a moment there was silence as the man, Mr. Grimaldi, was paralyzed with fear.

_Those eyes! They're…they're not human! How does he know all that? It doesn't make any sense. Is...oh no, is he a hitman Babel sent after me? A rival? I have to get out of here!_

"Whatever," he said finally, running off.

_He stood up for me? Why? I'm just an Eleven…_

_Oh dear, now look what he's done!_

_We needed that business!_

"Hey, what did you do that for?" one the Elevens angrily demanded. "Now we lost a customer."

"What?" Mao replied, bewildered. "He was a complete jerk!"

_Who cares!_

"It doesn't matter how they treat us," the man retorted. "We have to make a living, you know. So our children can eat. You'll never be able to understand desperation. So just leave us alone. We don't need any heroes or saviors. **We don't want your damn pity!**"

Mao scowled in disgust at the dreadfully mistaken assertion, painfully aware of several pairs of contemptuous eyes bearing down upon him. Tired of their relentless pandering, he began walking away, the Eleven's words making him wonder if he should've bothered at all.

"Sir, what about jewelry? Something beautiful for your sweetheart?" an elderly woman baited tenderly up ahead.

Mao tried to ignore her, but found himself looking down at her wares as he passed by anyway.

_Figures she'd muscle in._

_Maybe we can call the Britannians and get them to take her away. She's old after all. It's about time she moved aside._

"It's all fine crafted. Very reasonably priced," the woman explained hopefully as she noticed him glance. She was right. There were many beautiful pieces and Mao felt embarrassed when he compared them to the crude ring he had made.

_He's so handsome_

"You're earrings are beautiful. They look…how do you say? Sexy?" she remarked.

Mao blushed, gently touching his finger to a golden ring in his ear, its surface smooth. They had been with him Before even C.C., in the times filled with darkness, cold, and hunger, a strange thing for an urchin to have.

Shaking his head, Mao left her and continued on as the light waned. More men and women came out on the street corners to offer their particular _services_.

"Lonely?" a woman with heavy makeup asked suggestively, licking her lips. "Unlike some other girls, I don't mind being abused. Britannian guys just love getting rough," she added strolling up to him and pressing him against a nearby wall. She reeked of alcohol mingled with cheap perfume.

_This works every time… I just slide my hand down here and…_

"No! Don't touch me!" Mao shouted angrily, shaking his head frantically as he struck her hard across the face, pushing her off him.

"What the hell man!" she protested, spitting blood.

But Mao had taken off running. He had to get out of there. There were just too many people, their thoughts disgusted him. It was getting hard to breathe.

_Too bad though…just look at that ass! _

Forgetting to look where he was going, he almost collided with a burly man, his thick arms the size of Mao's waist. "Hey!" the man exclaimed in surprise.

"Uh…sorry," Mao said quickly as he tried to move around him.

"Wait here just a moment now," the man whispered furtively, squeezing his shoulder firmly. "Take a look at what I've got. I'm the dealer for the entire block," the man explained excitedly, taking out a vial filled with a golden liquid. "And reasonably priced, considering the difficulties," he added with an exaggerated wink.

Mao stared at the vial, transfixed. There was definitely something familiar about it.

_Well that got his attention… First customer of the night! That's it…_

Carefully, Mao took it from the man and examined it, twisting open its cap to smell its contents. Immediately, Mao felt a wave of nausea return, the sickening feeling sweeping through his body. Quickly, he handed it back to the man and gagged.

_What's going on? He said this was the real stuff! If he cheated me, I'm gonna bust his head…_

Mao shook his head. "What is _that_?" he demanded.

_He doesn't know about Refrain?_

"This? It's supposed to be Refrain," the man replied as if Mao should know just by hearing the name.

Mao had definitely had this before. Images of Doctor Hwai's cruel face, a shock of cold eyes and greasy hair, returned. "RF-442," he muttered angrily. "So it's already here in Area 11 then…"

"Uh…what?" the man asked, unable to make out what Mao was saying. "Are you…talking to yourself?"

_Is he already tripping, maybe?_

"Is that illegal?" Mao inquired, ignoring the remark.

The man quickly put the vial away, crossing his arms suspiciously. "Yeah…what's it matter?" he demanded. "I'm just tryin' to feed my family, man, alright? If you got a problem with it, don't buy, but don't lay some civil trip on me."

Mao shook his head. "No thank you," he managed, walking away.

_Good grief! Oh well, there's plenty more where he came from._

"So the wretched drug is already here... Seems they made it illegal almost as soon as they addicted the Elevens, driving up the price. They want to make money as they poison them," Mao mused, disgusted.

Finally climbing back up the stairs to his suite, he took out his key and unlocked the door, stumbling inside to get away from the whores and pushers.

"_We apologize but the feed from the Convention Centre is experiencing technical difficulty,_" the television played. "_We hope to be correct the problem as quickly as possible._"

"WHAT?" Mao exclaimed, rushing to the sound. He threw himself upon the couch and turned the volume up, his eyes riveted to the screen. But it displayed nothing but static, repeating the same apologetic message over and over again, he assumed, from the station itself, none other than Hi-TV.

"The footage of a Japanese terrorist attack cuts out?" Mao muttered in disbelief. "No way. What are you up to, Zero?"

Suddenly, as if in reply, the image of the masked vanguard appeared on the screen, startling Mao.

"_Britannians!_" his voice greeted, loud and firm.

"But...I've already determined Hi-TV has no connection. How is he doing that? He must've stolen their equipment somehow," Mao reasoned quickly.

The camera panned to show the ruined Convention Centre, beset by flames and dust, apparently the victim of a recent explosion, and surrounded by a circle of Knightmares, support convoys, and media crews. Floating helplessly on the lake surrounding the structure, were several boats containing the Britannian hostages.

"_Fear not. I have saved all the hostages inside the hotel,_" Zero declared. "_I will return them to you now._"

The camera returned to Zero, suddenly illuminated by several spotlights which revealed seven other individuals, wearing black uniforms and visors, flanking him on both sides.

"_People of the world_" Zero shouted dramatically. "_Fear us and seek us out!_ _We are the Order of the Black Knights! We are the allies of the powerless, be they Elevens or Britannians. The cowardly Japan Liberation Front took Britannian civilians as hostages and murdered them cruelly. It was a meaningless act. Thus I have punished them. The former Viceroy, Clovis, was the same. He ordered the slaughter of unarmed Elevens._"

"Slaughter," Mao repeated. "Is that his explanation for the deaths in Shinjuku then?"

"_I cannot ignore such atrocities_," Zero continued. "_Thus I punished him._ _I do not refuse to fight. However, I will never allow the strong to bully the weak! The only ones who should kill are those who are prepared to be killed."_

"Hmm...I agree with him," Mao mused darkly. "You _should _be prepared to die, if you've done something with C.C.."

"_When the powerful attack the powerless, we shall appear again_," Zero promised. "_No matter how powerful our enemy may be. Those with power, fear me_," he swept his cape for effect. "_Those without power, seek me! We, the Black Knights, will judge the world!"_

Mao blinked. "So this…is my enemy?" he asked absently as he switched off the television. Exhaling deeply, he glanced at the clock. It was late. Hanging up his coat and removing his boots and gloves, he turned off the light and crawled into bed.

He laid back and gripped the pillow, holding it tightly against his chest. It was a poor substitute for C.C. though. He closed his eyes and listened to the low sound of the radio softly streaming music into the air-all of it by popular Britannian artists of course-all of it in English. Japanese songs were banned, unless you tuned into a pirate station in the odd hours of the morning.

_Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace  
I dream at night  
I can only see your face  
I look around but it's you I can't replace  
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace  
I keep crying baby, baby please_

"I'll save you C.C.," Mao whispered, drifting off to sleep. "Just give me a bit more time."

* * *

***Lyrics from "Every Breath You Take" by the Police**

**Author's Note: In the show, Refrain was stated to be smuggled into Area 11 from the Chinese Federation through the Kyushu Route, which is why I had the drug developed in China. **


	16. Scheming Mao: Fair In Love And War

**Author's Note: I have exciting news! Somebody made a page for this story on the TV Tropes site already (and it's not even finished yet)! If it was one of you fine people, you have my gratitude. Regardless, go check it out (sorry FF won't allow me to post the link)—it's got a pretty funny commentary. Of course, feel free to add any tropes **_**you've **_**found in the work to the page. I also want to ****thank everyone so much for their kind words! I'm glad I was able to expand your understanding of just how great a character Mao really is. I'm trying very hard to weave it smoothly into canon while keeping the situations plausible. Reviews are so helpful and encouraging to read, but just looking at the stats and seeing all the hits this story continues to accumulate is reward enough for me—knowing that people are reading and (hopefully) enjoying it. Anyway, thanks for reading; updates are on the way!**

**Recommended Music: "Brain Game" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Stray Cat" from the same, and "L's Theme" by Yoshihina Hirano and Hideki Taniuchi from the **_**DEATH NOTE Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Scheming Mao**_

**(All That's Fair In Love and War)**

The apartment was oddly quiet today, the television off for a change. Mao sat at the table wearing only his mauve shirt and pair of sleek dark pants, tracing his finger across a map of the Settlement. "A quick ride on the Circinate would take me there," he muttered.

Standing to his feet, he opened the closet and surveyed his collection of assault weapons. "I'm low on ammunition," he muttered, drawing out one of the pistols and placing it under his shirt. It still had a few rounds left. Pulling down his shirt, he checked a large bruise that had formed on his right shoulder. He hadn't been used to delivering so much gunfire in Shinjuku, and his sore arms weren't letting him forget that fact.

Checking his funds, he determined that, minus the money set aside for the cottage in Australia, he had roughly a little under twenty thousand yuan left. "Plenty for the time being," he muttered.

Folding up the map, he slid it inside his pocket and drew the coat from the rack, sliding his arms through the sleeves and donning the visor, hurriedly running a hand through his hair to smooth it out.

Mao looked the room over, as he often did before he headed outside, ensuring that nothing incriminating was left out in case someone came there. After all, he had chosen the suite for its privacy—he could pay in cash with no questions asked on a weekly basis.

Closing the door behind him, he descended down the metal stairs, quickly making his way past the Eleven storefronts who were busy once more humiliating themselves today—so they could pay to inject themselves with visions of happier times tonight.

Another benefit to this location was that the rail station was nearby. Once he had boarded the line, he found a lonely seat to mull over his plan.

"I'll go to Ashford and look for Kallen but…she's a resistance fighter, skilled in combat. There's no way I could threaten her directly, even with Geass. I can't predict reflexive muscle movements," Mao muttered. "I might be able to persuade her though. Her motivation is simple enough—she's a terrorist who fancies herself a freedom fighter, so committed to her cause that she was willing to exterminate every last Britannian on this island so her people can retake Japan. If I were to make an offer she couldn't refuse…say the location of a real biological weapon… Well I'm sure someone in the military would know where something like that might be. Yes, perhaps it's time to try a…diplomatic solution. Regardless though, I need to get close to her, probe her mind and find out where C.C. is, or at least Zero's identity or whereabouts. According to the registry, Ruben Ashford is the headmaster of the school and his daughter Milly is the president of the Student Council. They should have information on all the students enrolled there…"

After a few stops, the monorail carried him to the station indicated on the map and he disembarked, increasing his pace. He felt nervous for some reason, perhaps because he was heading to a school. He had never been to a real school and, when he first met C.C., he couldn't even read or write. As they lived together in the wild, C.C. began to teach him things though, using whatever books she could steal and her own long memory—how to read and write in Chinese, English and Japanese, basic mathematics, and even history, which was his favorite. He loved all the fascinating stories C.C. would tell, though he often questioned why it seemed they always turned out so badly. But she would merely shrug and say,

"_Because that's the way it happened."_

But he decided it wasn't so simple. _People _caused all those problems, vomiting out greed, hate, deceit, complacency_. _It was all the fault of wicked, uncaring, lying humanity! Ah, but his pure C.C. was nothing like them! She was kind, gentle, and caring, yet strong and fun._  
_

However, Mao excelled most in building things—he had imagined and engineered countless devices to ease their chores in the country, impeded only by lack of materials. C.C. had often called him brilliant for his uncanny ability to solve their problems with his inventions.

Walking along the clean street, he saw it—the entrance to the Academy—a wide path gently curving in from the surrounding walls. Looking past, he could see several students enjoying the pleasant weather, walking around engaged in conversation or playing games, oblivious to the grittier world outside the campus.

_Haha, my turn_

_The festival is sure to be amazing! The President is the best when it comes to stuff like that._

_Good grief, throw it like this man!_

_I wonder how I did on the test. The teacher said if my grades didn't improve, I'd be in trouble…_

Carefully, he strolled onto the grounds, passing under a series of golden columns which curved to form an arch over the main path.

_Hey, who's that person?_

"_Wow, he looks like a guy we could really have some fun with!"_

_His clothes are so cool, definitely not uniform._

"_Yeah, either he's a total rebel—which is super sexy—or he's not a student at all. Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen him before…"_

He continued along, trying to stay focused despite their thoughts, taking in the campus. The main academy was a long, stately old building designed to make you feel learned just by looking at it, buttressed by several deluxe dormitories and clubhouses. The surrounding lawns were wide and neat, with carefully laid cobblestone walkways cut through them. The well groomed landscape was adorned with flowering trees, rocks, statuary, crystal blue canals and gardens.

It boasted several other complexes as well: an observatory, swimming pools, recreational halls, racetracks, a rugby field, laboratories, even its own chapel.

"Entering the academy itself is too dangerous right now. Kallen might even recognize me from Shinjuku," Mao muttered, searching for a venue where he could focus. "Somewhere high…like the roof, would be a good spot," he decided, looking up at the buildings surrounding him. But most of them were too sloped, making it difficult to stand on them.

Up ahead, however, he saw the small chapel. It had a single bell tower and a long _flat _roof. "There," Mao breathed, making his way over to the structure. His Geass revealed that it was empty at the moment and so he carefully opened the thick wooden door and strode inside, the sound as it shut echoing off the vaulted ceiling rather loudly.

It was small within, flanked by pews on either side with a single altar ahead. Above was a beautiful window of stained glass, however, and Mao took a moment to enjoy the colorful beams which streamed in through its intricate cuts, cascading the altar in rainbow.

"_What are you doing now, Mao? Are you rich? Have you taken over China? Or even the world perhaps. Are you happy? What of women? How about the sex? Not as good as with me, right?_," C.C.'s voice questioned him playfully from his audio player.

Working his way around to the back, he found the ladder he had expected and quickly scaled it, several rungs at a time, stepping out of a door in the bell tower to find himself now standing atop the structure. He looked out over the campus from his new vantage—it was a lovely view and the gentle breeze blowing through Mao's platinum tresses felt quite refreshing after his stuffy train ride.

Taking a deep breath, he turned C.C.'s voice down. Thoughts which had been drowned out before came flooding in, staggering him.

_It's such a beautiful day!_

_I wonder if I should tell Milly how I feel? I mean…she's just so… But she's my friend. What if she doesn't feel the same way? And she's nobility and I'm just a student. But man, sometimes I really just wanna give her a kiss…_

_I'll have to thank my dad for these tickets next time I see him. He's the best!_

_Next time, we're gonna crush the other team! They won't stand a chance._

_Four out of the six experiments failed… How odd, I can't really blame the students in this situation. But I can't figure out what's wrong with the experiment either…_

_After splitting it, the reaction would tremendous… There could be so many possible uses for it. Euphemia…oh sweet Euphemia, will I ever see you again?_

_That damn witch!_

_So much homework!_

_Where did I leave my phone at?_

_Prez is so demanding… But I suppose it's my fault for being so capable. Still, I should be planning for Kyoto's next move. They'll definitely want to meet with Zero soon now that they're supplying us with arms, hoping to ensure I take care of their interests as well. The fools. Just another pawn to move me forward on the board. But Nunnally has a fever… I hope it's not serious or anything…_

Mao froze, despite his discomfort, searching for the source of the thought. It was a young student, walking along the lawn as he carried something under his arm. He had black hair and deep amethyst eyes. Compared to the imbeciles Mao usually had to listen to, he was pretty complex. There were several different things happening at once inside that mind: calculations, counterstrategies, scenarios, arguments, schedules, all organized into its own unique balance.

"Lelouch?" Mao breathed softly, almost incredulously. "This guy…is Zero?" A smile spread across his face. "I did it! I found him!" Focusing the full power of his Geass upon the student, he probed deep into his memories, his smile broadening with each new detail he uncovered.

As the student continued walking, however, a feminine voice called out behind the young man, drawing his attention.

"Lulu!"

_Shirley? _

"_What is it?"_

Curious, Mao extended his senses, drawing this girl, Shirley apparently, into his awareness.

"_Is there a letter for me mixed up in that paperwork?"_

_A letter? What's she talking about? "Oh, sorry."_

_Should I ask him now? We're here alone…together. _

"_What's the matter?"_

_I'm gonna ask him! I don't want to pass this up. Suzaku is right! "Lulu…"_

"_Yes?"_

"_My dad has to live apart from us because he works in Narita, but he always sends me things like this to cheer me up. So do you think you…_

Mao's focus wavered for a moment as something in the building behind the pair caught his eye. According to Lelouch's mind, it was the Student Government Clubhouse where—he froze. In the window, he saw C.C. herself looking down at them as well. His eyes widened. She seemed to be…talking to herself. She didn't appear to have noticed him. But there she was, only a few meters away! He could hardly believe it. He wanted desperately to rush to her immediately, but his probe of Lelouch's mind had revealed a few details that urged caution as far as he was concerned. It was hard, but he would have to force himself to wait. At least she appeared to be alright.

C.C. eventually left the window, disinterested, and Mao returned his attention back to the group below. Shirley had left him her thoughts hopeful and excited while Lelouch had left confused.

_What's up with Shirley all of the sudden anyway?_

When he was out of sight, the girl Shirley quickly ran behind a corner, her face flushed as she took several deep breaths.

_I did it! I finally did it! He'll come, won't he? He didn't say no, but… "No, no, we're just going to a concert together! That doesn't mean anything, but it's a good opportunity." Thanks dad…Huh? My phone is ringing._

"_Hello?"_

"_Shirley, it's your mother."_

"_Hey, how are you?"_

"_Shirley, I have…some bad news. Um…I hate to tell you this over the phone, but…it's about your father. You—you need come to Narita as quickly as you can. I'm waiting there. You're father…well, honey, he died in—"_

"—_What?"_

"_-There was a landslide. Officials are saying it was caused by Zero and his terrorists…he…he was caught in the midst of it in town just as he got off work. I'm so sorry! Please come."_

"_Oh my god…Mom… I'll—I'll be right there! I promise."_

"_I love you, darling."_

"_I—I love you too…"_

_I…I don't believe it. Dad died? Caught in a landslide… by Zero? _

Mao stroked his chin thoughtfully, turning his attention back to Lelouch. It seemed he was leaving campus…underground, slipping away to meet with his Black Knights.

Retreating from his position on the roof, Mao descended down the ladder once more and sat down in one of the pews to collect his thoughts. Years of practice had given him the ability to quickly process and store vast amounts of information on his subjects, organizing details according to their varying importance. For example, anything related to C.C. was treated as incomparably precious—details concerning her likes and dislikes, history, personality, and their memories together. Whereas information gleaned from Brantley Hall, for example, was only useful once and subsequently discarded. Likewise, the young man quickly organized what he had learned about Lelouch into details concerning his identities, history, abilities and weaknesses.

"So Lelouch Lamperouge, a member of the Student Council at Ashford Academy, is Zero?" he muttered in disbelief. "Who would've imagined? Ah, but he's so much more than that. He's secretly Eleventh Prince Lelouch vi Britannia whose mother was murdered by terrorists. But he doesn't believe that—he alleges a conspiracy involving the highest echelons of the nobility and military. He was banished to Japan, placing himself under the protection of the Ashford family. His scheme as Zero is to convince the Japanese resistance to accept him as their leader so he can use them to overthrow the colonial government and gain a bastion from which to strike out against the Empire itself." Mao chuckled.

"He encountered C.C. in Shinjuku just as I thought and formed a contract with her." Mao's smile faded. "Which means he has Geass. He can force absolute obedience from his victims, a dangerous opponent to be sure. However, his Geass is severely limited—commands must be issued verbally, direct eye contact must be made…the maximum effective distance is two hundred seventy-two meters, though it transmits through light allowing it to be reflected or blocked, commands may only be issued once to any given individual and only so long as eye contact is unbroken, commands cannot violate a victim's physical or mental capabilities. But his own experiments have proven that these commands possess no time limit and memories are consequently sealed for the duration of the command, unable to be recalled. Of course, even without Geass, he is highly intelligent, capable of devising and executing complex strategies with speed and precision. But physically, he is extremely weak—unable to run for any substantial period of time, with even the simplest manual tasks exhausting him." Mao laughed despite himself as he processed the amusing quirk.

"A wimp terrorist, eh? But he has a decent proficiency with firearms and can pilot a Knightmare. Now…his organization the Black Knights… Core members are Kaname Ohgi…" Mao paused at the familiar name. "The same one Doragoniki trusted… Kallen Kozuki, of course. Kento Sugiyama, Yoshida, Shinichiro Tamaki, Inoue, Yoshitaka Minami and…Diethard Ried? That bastard! So he must have joined after we talked—it explains the Black Knight's recent recruitment expansion. I did that?" Mao shook his head, quite bemused. "They're being funded by the Kyoto House, a clique of Japanese businessmen. They even have a few Knightmare Frames—their best being the Guren Mk-II, piloted by none other than Kallen Kozuki. I wonder how they would react to learning that their daring Zero was Britannian royalty? It would be so easy to instigate a mutiny and fracture his forces… But their headquarters is a deluxe mobile home. That would make it difficult to arrange a successful attack," Mao began drumming fingers nervously on the aged wood, taking a breath.

"Lelouch's relationships at Ashford include the students, Milly Ashford, Student Council President, Kallen Stadtfeld, who is unaware of his secret identity as far as he knows, Rivalz Cardemonde, Nina Einstein, Suzaku Kururugi…the Honorary Britannian, how interesting…and, of course, Shirley Fenette, who I already know to be infatuated with him. He lives in the Student Government Clubhouse with his sister Nunnally vi Britannia, who is blind and crippled. But…how delicious! He's in love with her. His revolution is actually a plan to overthrow Britannia and make the world peaceful so she can live happily. She's his entire motivation. Well, I suppose I can _even_ respect that," Mao muttered, thinking of all he had already done for C.C.

"He views situations much like chess matches, his favorite game, using other people to accomplish his ends and then discarding them like pawns when their usefulness expires. Hmm…he doesn't know CC's wish. Which means she hasn't told him yet. She must be waiting till his Geass becomes more powerful. Still…it's only a matter of time and from what I know about him now, he _would _not hesitate to take her immortality so long as it served his purposes. He cares little for her, grateful for the power she gave him but regarding her willfulness as an annoyance more often than not. Good for you, C.C.," Mao quipped. "He hasn't even given her a change of clothes—still making her wear that horrible straight jacket. But at least he's not a rival then. Not that anyone _could _actually rival I and C.C.'s bond."

"From all I know therefore," Mao concluded. "His greatest weakness is definitely Nunnally. For this reason, he usually has her guarded by a maid, Sayoko Shinozaki, who is an accomplished martial artist. While an attack on Nunnally _would_ devastate Lelouch, it could also easily make him an even worse enemy. If she was threatened, _and _so long as he was convinced there was no possible way to win, he would do anything to save her, but…kill himself? I doubt it. He would feel like he was simply leaving her powerless. There's no way to predict what he might do in that situation, given the uncertainty of the effects of desperation of the mind. But he obviously bears some amount of feeling for his other friends—he risked himself as Zero to rescue Suzaku Kururugi , confides in Milly Ashford, entrusts Kallen with his own protection, and…cares for Shirley Fenette. But his mind seems conflicted in that regard, unsure of how to respond toward her. Still, her father was just killed by Zero. I might be able to use something like that. How would she react to learning that her dear 'Lulu' was her father's murderer, I wonder? I only gleaned a basic understanding of her personality so…it's hard to say," Mao said finally. "Regardless, a direct attack upon Lelouch is untenable. I have to come at him sideways if I'm going to save C.C.."

Satisfied with his deduction, Mao rose and left the chapel, carefully checking his surroundings to make sure he wasn't being watched, and stole away into one of the large campus gardens. It seemed it was rarely occupied and, with evening drawing on, it would be a good place to rest for a bit. Besides, with C.C. only a few meters away, there was no way he was leaving. Here, he could wait for Shirley to return from Narita, eager to study her further and see if she could be of some use.

"The end is near for you, Lelouch," Mao said with a smirk as he neared a large fountain spewing its refreshing contents into the air. "You're life was over the moment you made that murderous contract with C.C.."

* * *

**Author's Note: You may have missed the brief scene in Stage 12 where Mao is seen on a roof at Ashford, watching the exchange between Lelouch and Shirley, and then smiles when he sees C.C. in the window. However, it is not only Mao's first appearance in the show but also, given his Geass, provides the obvious impetus for his later actions. Watch it again, carefully, and consider the ramifications if you don't agree.**


	17. Accusing Mao: Get Behind Me

**Author's Note: T****here's actually one more pre-debut cameo of Mao in Stage 13, when C.C. takes a walk on Ashford campus at night while the snow falls, talking to herself about her past "mistakes", and glances sideways sharply, after which it cuts to a shot of Mao walking in the campus garden, near a fountain. I alluded to this at the end of the last chapter by having him end in that same garden, but couldn't really devote an entire chapter to it like I could his rooftop cameo (just because there's not enough material). But I felt that realizing that he **_**was **_**present for those events (and more importantly, that the writers and artists took the time to inform us of that fact) made so much of what happens next more sensical (is that a word?). Also, I was thinking what kind of music fits with Mao's personality and I agree with my readers that it would be something really…_quirky_. In my thoughts, I touched upon System of A Down, since it's edgy and hard, but also very eccentric and playful—in a word, whimsically discordant. Just my opinion though. Vocaloid works too.  
**

**Recommended Music: "What Am I" by Nagakawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass R2 Soundtrack**_** followed by "Concealment" from the same and followed by "Outside Road" by the same from the **_**Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Accusing Mao**_

**(Get Behind Me)**_**  
**_

Mao paced around the Ashford campus, which was quite lonely at this hour, trying to keep out of sight as the first light of morning warmed the skies. One of the windows in the building he was watching, a dormitory, was dimly illuminated. Someone else was awake. He smiled.

His study of the girl named Shirley had been promising. She had attended her father's funeral with her friends and family. His murderer, Lelouch, had even attended; the bastard. She had then secretly met with a demoted Britannian soldier who alleged that 'Lelouch Lamperouge' was involved with the Black Knights. She had spied upon him and even followed him to Port Yokosuka, the site of his latest scheme—a brutal purge against his former allies, the Japan Liberation Front. But she encountered Zero there—unconscious-and tried to kill him in revenge, only to discover his true identity.

_Why did my father have to die? I can't—I can't think straight. How could Lulu be Zero? How could he! What have I done? I can't… I can't live like this. It's just…too much to bear. Oh god! _

Mao became nervous for a moment as he continued to focus on her. She was writing a suicide note, her free hand resting on Zero's gun. "Not yet," Mao whispered tensely. However, she began to cry again and crumpled up the paper in disgust.

"She's exactly the person I need," Mao muttered, relieved. "But I have to act quickly before Lelouch does. Would he sacrifice her if it came down to it? We'll have to see. But I should have a head start, since I know where she's going," he added. "Then again it's not _too _surprising a place, given her situation."

He fell silent once more to look toward her window. Though the curtains were drawn shut, his Geass revealed that she was hastily packing. "So she's leaving now… I should go, then. I'll need to set up the necessary conditions before she arrives. Given what she's done, it shouldn't take Lelouch long to figure out what happened, bringing him there after her. Perfect."

Satisfied, he turned up the volume of his player, allowing C.C.'s voice to stream in through his headphones.

"_Great job, Mao! You can do it!"_

Carefully, he slipped off the campus and back onto the stark streets, quickening his pace as he boarded the Circinate which took him back to his apartment. There was no time to waste.

As he walked along the familiar road, he was met by the earliest Elevens sleepily dragging out their stands and goods, preparing for another day; the drugs from last night still wearing off for some.

_So tired…_

_Hey, there's that guy again. He's been going back and forth quite a bit the past few days._

Ascending the metal stairs, he drew out his key and unlocked the door, switching on the lights as he entered.

The radio had been left on, filling the empty apartment with its soft songs.

_I've found a reason for me  
To change who I used to be  
A reason to start over new  
And the reason is you_

Mao made his way over to the closet and slid it open. Out of ammunition for the rifle and submachine gun, he drew out the shotgun instead, grabbing the last of its rounds. Collapsing its stalk, he slid it into the waterproof bag Doragoniki had sold him, along with a few tools, slinging the strap over his shoulder. "Let's see…what else?" he muttered quickly.

_I've found a reason to show  
A side of me you didn't know  
The reason for all that I do  
And my reason is You_

"It's _always_ been You," Mao muttered softly, switching off the radio. He stepped outside and shut the door, locking it once more with his key, and ran back down the stairs. None of the Elevens here sold what he needed, he realized, so, checking his map, he took a brief detour to find a store on the way. He hated stores. He just felt so confined in them—and it was always so loud…and disgusting—fat greasy clerks ogling young girls, hazardous products, revolting scraps of food. Mao shuddered. "But Lelouch is extremely arrogant and theatrical… Only something so complex would provide the necessary distraction to such a mind as his…" he muttered as he entered the store. Thankfully, the early hour meant that only a few others walked the floor inside.

Searching the aisles, he found what he was looking for on one of the shelves—a small, folding chessboard with an accompanying set of pieces, perfect for travel. Taking the game into his hands, he examined it for a moment, quickly reading the rules on the back of the packaging. Balancing the box on his arm, he made his way to a register and counted out some money.

_Huh? That's strange…_

"Renmimbi huh?" the clerk asked, eyeing the currency suspiciously. "You Chinese?"

"Actually, I won it gambling with a Chinese man," Mao replied carefully, throwing a disarming smile his way.

"Oh, congratulations. Way to teach those yellows a lesson. Here you go," the clerk replied, finishing the transaction and sliding a bag his way.

"Thank you," Mao forced himself as he left, discreetly stuffing the purchase into his bag with the shotgun. "Now…" he muttered, checking his schedule. "I should be right on time…" He continued walking for a bit before arriving at the Tokyo Settlement Central Monorail Line. He checked the digital destination sign. 'Narita' flashed in bright neon letters.

As soon as the gate opened, Mao boarded the train, purchasing a seat in first class again. After all, the car was deserted, especially at this time of day, and he could simply enjoy the scenery and C.C.'s voice without getting distracted by anybody else. He had to plan his next moves _very _carefully anyway. "It will mean the difference between living and dying," he muttered. "And I have no intention of dying just yet."

Mao waited while the crew checked the equipment and allowed all final passengers to board. After a few moments, the train sped off, propelling the young man closer to his destination. The vast cityscape soon gave way to grey ruins, overtaken by moss and forests, as it took him through the blasted countryside.

"They make a mess of their land and then force them to clean it up," Mao mused as he caught the stray thoughts of some work crews outside the brass lined windows of the speeding train.

"_Mao, whenever you're ready to end your journeys, know that I'll be here waiting for you…"_

"Where's 'here'?" Mao snorted. "Ah… I suppose she means that other place she spoke of occasionally—C's World, she called it. C.C.…it will be _so _good to hear new words from you once this day is over."

Eventually, the magnetic rail carried him to the mountainous area of Narita. Much of the town had been completely buried by Zero's landslide and what was left was littered with trash brought by the Britannian military excavators who had been there the past several days digging out the bodies.

"How many people did you kill in this, I wonder, Lelouch?" Mao muttered as he gathered up his things and disembarked. "Do you imagine your will is as strong as mine?" The bleak town was so quiet, as most of the inhabitants had already packed up and left—the only real occupants those visiting the new memorial that had been hastily constructed under the Viceroy's orders as a concession to the victims and the remaining crews of Britannian military engineers trying to clean up the vast amounts of rubble.

As he searched his surroundings, he laid eyes on something that would function as a suitable environment. It was a train car, formerly used to transport passengers to parts of the town elevated by the mountainous terrain. It was grounded at the moment, but as Mao examined its structure and mechanisms, he felt fairly confident he could have it running shortly. Unzipping his bag, he drew out a few tools and climbed up to the transport, getting to work.

After an hour or so, he had restrung the chain around the pulley, used a winch to lift it back onto the line and rewired the motor into a new battery cell. Stepping into the car, he tested it, driving it slowly back and forth across the new line. It worked perfectly. Satisfied, Mao took out the chessboard he had bought and set it upon the stairs dividing the seats. Checking the instructions on the ripped package, he laid out the pieces in the designated formation and stepped back to admire his handiwork, adjusting the angle of the board ever so slightly. Three times. Mao sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead and peered out the windows at the sun weaving its way through the burnt orange sky. Dropping his pack in the corner, he reassembled the shotgun and laid it down, concealing it beneath the seats. "From its position in the sky, Shirley should be here any moment now," he muttered, stepping back out of the car and dropping down to the ground below.

Mao had a pretty good idea of where she would go and unobtrusively made his way over to the new Narita Memorial, a tall stone monument inscribed with the names of the known victims of the attack, a series of steps leading up to its cold face. Surrounding the pillar was a neat lawn, adorned with several gravestones and a single brick path cut through.

"I just have to step in _before _she tries to kill herself," Mao muttered, his pace increasing. "If I don't make it in time, all this is meaningless."

Sure enough, however, he could see Shirley up ahead, walking slowly through the brick path towards the monument, her telltale orange hair gently tussled by the wind, a pink pack slung across her shoulder containing, Mao knew, Zero's pistol and her favorite pictures of Lelouch. "Truth be told, I don't disapprove of the murder, of course. I'm no hypocrite," Mao mused quietly as he watched her for a moment. "I've killed many people to protect the one I love. If things were different, I wouldn't have to bother her…but not now. She's the fastest means available to strike down Lelouch—and spare C.C.."

Focusing his Geass upon her, he carefully strode up behind her.

_Lulu, why did you do this?_

"I _wonder_ why?" Mao called out, announcing his presence, his voice tinged with sarcasm.

Obviously startled, the girl whirled around, their faces meeting.

Mao walked just a bit closer and then stopped. "That's a nice monument. Isn't it, Shirley Fenette?" he baited.

_Who's that?_

"This Lelouch is a bad person," Mao continued.

_Someone who knows Lulu?_

"H-How do you know about Lulu?" Shirley asked, taking a step back.

"He deceived you, did he not?" he asked, taking several strides closer. "About being Zero all this time."

_Is he… one of his Black Knights? Or was he working with that woman, Viletta?_

Shirley gasped in shock, her pack falling to the ground. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"He defiled your virgin lips with the same mouth that gave the order to kill your father. That's just unforgivable," Mao said dryly, ignoring the question. "He's a _very _bad man. But you like it. So I have to punish you both," he added, his eyes narrowing darkly beneath the visor.

_But…how could he know about that? No one knew! We were alone…_

"Both of us?" Shirley repeated in confusion.

"I know all about that night," Mao assured her, flashing a devious smile.

"So _he's Zero?" the demoted soldier, Viletta, remarked, gripping the head viciously by the hair and lifting his face up from the grime."What a surprise. I never thought that the student himself would be Zero. And he's a Britannian to boot." She began to laugh triumphantly, staring down at his unconscious body as if he were a grand trophy. "If I hand him over to Viceroy Cornelia, I'll be granted nobility for sure! Not just a knight, but a noble!"_

_Shirley's body began to tremble as she listened to the woman's words, Zero's gun still tentatively grasped in her hands._

"_And he's still alive!" Viletta continued, oblivious, running a hand over his smooth hair admiringly. "Wonderful! What kind of execution would be fitting, I wonder?"_

_Standing to her feet, the woman turned toward Shirley once more. "I'll tell the Viceroy that you—" She froze, meeting the barrel of a pistol shakily aimed for her chest. "How stupid of me," she muttered, clenching her teeth. "You're in love with him, after all." She started to rush forward, intending to disarm the young girl before she could bring herself to react._

_But Shirley didn't wait. Closing her eyes, she pulled the trigger firmly, the sound of the bullet as it penetrated flesh pounding in her ears._

_I killed her!_

"You're a murderer as well," Mao declared spreading his arms for effect, interrupting the memory. "No different than Zero."

_I'm nothing like Zero! But…Lelouch… I just wanted to avenge my father!_

Shirley began to shake her head. "No…I…" she countered weakly.

"But you also sought a reward for your father's death," Mao accused, addressing her thoughts and moving closer still, a maddening smile curling at his lips now.

_No! _Shirley's mind screamed as images of that night flashed through her mind. _Standing in the rain. Crying. Waiting. Angry. She saw Lelouch and rushed to him, throwing her arms around him. She kissed him forcefully, begging him to comfort her. Wanting him to make the pain go away. Wanting him to be the one to save her. Wanting his sympathy, his pity, his love._

"I…I" Shirley stammered, becoming hysterical.

_I just…wanted him to love me so badly. Is that wrong? But I…I know I manipulated him. I just..._

"What a manipulative girl you are," Mao mused. "You feigned vulnerability and demanded that he comfort you."

"No! No!" Shirley shouted, shaking her head back and forth repeatedly as he repeated her own thoughts back to her, closing her eyes tightly, wishing she could close her ears.

"Does it feel good to have had him look at you with such false sympathy?" Mao pressed her. "Now knowing that he was the one responsible for your sadness?"

"Stop it!" Shirley screamed, clamping her hands over her ears.

"How long do you intend to play the victim?" Mao demanded more forcefully, ignoring her plea.

"It's not like that-!" Shirley protested.

"—You move from murder to romance. You're no victim," Mao said contemptuously, cutting her off. It was time to break her. He had done it so many times before it had become a relatively simple process. All he had to do was tell her what she really thought deep inside where no one could see. He didn't even have to believe what he was saying—what was important was that _they _believed it. "You're just like an evil witch," he hissed, momentarily fascinated by how powerful fairy tale imagery could be.

"No…I…" Shirley muttered, unable to find the words, her nails digging into her head as she tried to escape his voice.

_It's all my fault. I'm the one that deserves to die. I can't forgive him… I can't forgive myself_

Mao stepped even closer toward the confused girl. "He loved another woman, yet you continued to cling to him. To force yourself upon him. You wanted to get him away from her, didn't you?"

_Kallen? Milly?_

Shirley looked up, her eyes wide with shock. Mao shook his head and brought his face only a few breaths away from her own. "Now you have to pay the price, Shirley," he explained, his voice almost seductive.

Tears welled up in the young girl's peridot eyes and she clenched her teeth, beginning to cry anew. She couldn't take anymore. She collapsed before Mao, burying her face into her hands, now sobbing uncontrollably.

"Surely you don't want to feel like this forever?" Mao asked tenderly, softening his approach now. She was ready. "You cannot bear this by yourself. If you don't atone, you and Lelouch will never be free of this evil."

Shirley stopped crying.

_Atone? We can…atone?_

"How?" she breathed, looking up at the man.

"You came here today, intending to kill yourself with Zero's gun," Mao replied.

Shirley looked away, ashamed.

"It's understandable," Mao assured her, easing the pressure. "You hated Zero for killing your father, fully intending to murder him. But you couldn't bear to learn that Lelouch was really Zero all along. In order to protect him, _you_ became a murderer. But this evil is not yours alone. It also belongs to Zero—to Lelouch. He is the one who made you kill that woman. Don't you see? You can _both _atone. For _all _the blood that's been shed."

_Both of us…together?_

Shirley nodded mechanically, completely entranced. "We should both atone for this evil. For these lives taken by our hands..." she intoned, all emotion seemingly evaporated.

"Exactly," Mao agreed. "_Then _you can be together. There's nothing for you anymore. You've lost your father and ruined any chance of innocent friendship with the man you love through a single desperate kiss. You know he can't possibly succeed in his rebellion against Britannia-he will soon be exposed as Zero and executed. Can you really live in that kind of world? What would be the point—every day overwhelmed by misery and regret? You already recognize this or you wouldn't be here, ready to take this gun to your own head."

"I can't—I can't live this way anymore," Shirley agreed. "Please let me die."

Mao looked down at the pitiful creature who struggled to stand before him, his proud smirk gone, replaced by bland resolution. "As you wish. But not without Lelouch," Mao replied, finally helping her to her feet, supporting her with his arm.

_Lulu…I want to be forgiven by you… I want to forgive you…_

After snatching up her pink pack with his free hand, Mao led the broken girl to the restored train car, gently easing her inside. "Just take it all the way to the top and step off. Make sure you send it back down and then wait there. I'll bring Lelouch to you, I promise," Mao instructed carefully. Slipping his hand into her pack, he drew out a pink device. "Would you lend me this phone?" he asked.

Without hesitation, Shirley nodded.

"Just don't do anything rash until he gets there, alright?" Mao warned.

Shirley nodded vigorously and Mao pulled the lever, the car slowly bringing her across the line.

_A chess board? Lelouch's favorite game…_

"Now to spring the trap," Mao muttered as he turned and examined the phone. "Lulu," he mused as he read through her contacts.

His focus freed, he made his way back into the ruined town and leaned against a broken wall to wait in the shade.

* * *

**Endsong:**** "My Bloody Valentine" by Good Charlotte**


	18. Challenging Mao: Geass vs Geass

**Author's Notes: Good luck to everyone who is returning to school. I hope you'll still take a little time out of you're busy schedules to continue reading and critiquing my humble tale. Also, while I apologize to those who felt like last chapter was a repeat, as I will explain, it is a necessity. Firstly, Mao's Geass is always active, so I strove to show what Shirley was actually thinking during the conversation, as it was the motivation for why Mao chose the words he did. Also, too work around it would have meant glossing over one of the worst examples of Mao's slip into villainy, i.e. his willingness to prey on a naïve but troubled young girl to secure his ends. That defeats **_**one**_** of the whole points of why I started this story—to show the reasons why Mao acted as he did **_**and **_**to show what enabled him to be able to act as he did. The work is designed to be an**_** exhaustive **_**retelling of Mao's history. Everything must be accounted for. Plus I've**_** tried **_**to write this in such an explained, readable manner so that someone who isn't even very familiar with **_**Code Geass **_**can understand the plot, rather than just assuming the reader knows what happened. Next, sharing Mao's thoughts is tricky for the following reasons. I've established that because of his Geass, he speaks his thoughts aloud in order to distinguish them from the voices blaring in his head. It seemed to me that he really did this in the show based on his dialogue. Now, because of that, if I want to stay true to the source material when transcribing actual scenes from the show itself, I cannot add additional dialogue **_**until **_**the camera moves away. Though, as I prefer the sub but wished the dialogue to be more natural, I **_**did**_** actually do my own translation for some of the lines into something more suitable to the English of this story. Additionally, I actually **_**have **_**written lines like third person explanations of his thoughts when I believed him speaking in the situation would be inappropriate or simply impossible because of the source material.**

**Fear not, though, I don't want to give anything away (you'll just have to read ^_^), but I **_**will **_**say I have plenty of surprises in store…**

**Recommended Music: "Mello" by Taniuchi Hideki from the **_**DEATH NOTE Original Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Invisible Sound" by Nagakawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Shin Troop" from the same, followed by "Bad Illusion" from the same and finishing with (once C.C. appears!) "The First Signature" from the same.**

* * *

_**Challenging Mao**_

**(Geass vs. Geass)**

_The possibility is remote. There's no way Shirley was the one… She wouldn't do something like this. Damn, where is she? I need to know for certain._

"_What will you do if she really does know?" C.C. had pressed him in her typical disinterested tone. "Will you kill her? If you don't want to lose someone, you should keep them at a distance… That's __**my**__ policy."_

_But there was someone else there. Where did he go? What happened between him and Shirley? I have to calm down, start over from the beginning…_

Mao forced his smile to a thin smirk. "So he's arrived," he mused as he watched Lelouch himself pass over a ridge in the broken road wearing a broad-shouldered burgundy jacket. His foot falls were slow and his expression stern, deep in thought.

"Oh C.C., once this is all over I'll wash these bloody hands and we'll start a new life," Mao beamed. Dialing the number on Shirley's phone marked 'Lulu', he stepped out carefully, waiting for the line to connect.

Lelouch stopped, momentarily stunned by the sound of his ringing phone. Drawing it out of his pocket, he saw the number calling was…_Shirley!_

"Shirley?" he muttered, relieved. Flipping it open, he pressed the device to his ear. "It's me. Where are you right now?" he demanded, a bit more strongly than he intended.

"Where _indeed_…" Mao teased louder than necessary as he strut down towards Lelouch, the sound of his suede boots crunching into rubble carrying across the gap, stabbing the air with each step. His arms swung under the folds of his leather coat, whipped about by the warm afternoon breeze.

Lelouch blinked in surprise, staring up at the shimmering white figure, obscured by the sun's rays behind, whose shielded eyes bore down upon him from the broken ridge above.

Mao likewise found himself face to face with the raven-haired terrorist now, his amethyst eyes locked into a steely leer.

"Who are you?" Lelouch demanded, the first to speak as he slammed his phone shut.

Mao just stood there, arms hanging loosely at his side, long platinum locks lifting from his shoulders in the gentle breeze. Ending the call, he threw the phone to the dirt at Lelouch's feet.

"Bastard!" Lelouch cursed, his amethyst eyes narrowing into a glare. "What have you done with Shirley?"

"What a scary face!" Mao mocked, clapping his hands together in feigned respect, choosing a tone that he knew would most unnerve the Britannian. "It's the face of a man whose woman was stolen away. And now you're out for blood."

_What's going on here? What is this all about? I've never seen him before… But I already hate this guy and I don't even quite know why. There's just…something about the way he carries himself. It's unnerving! Like he's __**absolutely confident**__ that there's nothing I or anyone else can do to surprise him; a quality that __**even I**__, with all my talents, don't possess. _"What have you done with her?" Lelouch demanded once more, forcing himself to cease his mental profiling.

But for Mao the feeling was intensely mutual. "You want to know?" he baited. "Well then, let's have a match over it." he replied, holding up a white Knight. "I hear you're decent. Do you accept my challenge?"

_A White Knight… The only piece that can put the Black King in check without being in his line of sight…without his being aware of it. Is that symbolic?_

Lelouch scowled.

_I suppose there's no way to progress unless I agree to do what he wants… Still, it's hard to believe this is all about beating me at chess… Is he an old gambling rival? I can't remember his face… I think I would've remembered someone like that._

"Fine," Lelouch replied blandly.

"Please, follow me then," Mao instructed with a wink as he spun on his heels, keeping himself directly beside Lelouch once he had scaled the modest hill and joined him.

_He's being very careful…_

Together, the two young men made their way to the restored cable car waiting at the bottom of the line. Mao had Lelouch enter first and then closed the door, pulling the lever which sent them slowly ascending up the mountain.

Had circumstances been different, it would have actually been a pleasant ride—with the honey sickle sunshine and sweet pine trees adorning the landscape around the line. And, of course, the towering Narita mountains themselves.

Mao took his seat at one side of the car and Lelouch sat at the other, the chessboard Mao had prepared earlier positioned between them.

_Is this guy the other witness?_

The match began, Mao leading with white and Lelouch organizing his black ranks into a strong offensive formation.

_Not a very strong lead… I suppose the game is merely a trap. His true goal was to lure me to a secluded area…_

"This is the first time I've played this game," Mao ventured, interrupting his thoughts as he sent out his Bishop.

Without hesitation, Lelouch took it with his own Knight, however, pressing forward. Clearly speed of victory was his chief concern here.

_Did he call my mobile just to intimidate me? Was he being theatrical? No, he must not have known what I looked like. That means he can't have seen me that night and he didn't have time to get a picture of me. So this wasn't a meticulously planned encounter._

Mao raised a hand to his mouth, suppressing a fit of laughter at Lelouch's terribly mistaken assumption while he foiled his next attack with a single move, breaking his control of the board and ending any chance of a quick check.

_If that's the case-_

"You can take advantage of me?" Mao asked cooly, tilting his head sideways playfully as he addressed his thoughts. "You should focus on the game, don't you think?" His eyes narrowed beneath the visor. "You're going to lose."

Lelouch raised an eyebrow, analyzing his position on the board.

_He's defeated every attack I tried that took more than one move to execute so far…_

"What do you mean, your first time?" Lelouch asked bitterly as his Queen was forced to retreat for a round. "You _have _played this game before!"

Mao simply waited, listening to his opponent's strategies and analysis. A few more moves were played and Lelouch became increasingly agitated, sweat streaking his face.

_Every time I think I have him, he foils it and turns it back on me. Is he toying with me? Is he really just that skilled? I'm practically pressed against the edge of the board. Maybe I can turn this around if I just…_

However, after three more moves, Lelouch was left staring down at the board in disbelief, his lip quivering with fear.

_Idiot! I lost? That's—that's impossible!_

Mao allowed himself a grin. "Does this mean I win?" he teased. Suddenly the car came to a rough stop, throwing the pieces to the floor. Mao realized he should've tightened the suspension on the pulley a bit more earlier.

_He saw through me completely! Just who is this guy?_

"Didn't C.C. tell you about me?" Mao asked, throwing him a hint.

Lelouch's eyes widened and he stared at Mao even more carefully.

_He knows about C.C.? That means he's either… someone from the laboratory that captured her before? Another immortal? Someone who's conspiring with C.C. to betray me? Would she do that? She's unpredictable. Someone who knows about Geass? Someone else C.C. has a contract with? That witch! If that's the case there could be dozens of them! A mole within the Black Knights? Someone who's been spying on our operations? The person who saw my face at Yokosuka? Did he meet C.C. there? Or did Kallen tell someone about C.C.? No, that doesn't make any sense. But women can be fickle… Perhaps he encountered C.C. during our encounter with Cornelia here? Or did he find out about her through Shirley? But Shirley doesn't know about C.C… Unless she really was at Yokosuka? Maybe she saw her there…and maybe he was with her! But what did she say to him? Why would he mention her now? _

Mao's head swam for a moment as he processed the dizzying swirl of contradictory allegations and conspiracy theories. "Well done!" he exclaimed, breaking out into another bout of clapping, eager to silence Lelouch's mind. "You managed to instantly think up fourteen possibilities as to who I am with just one hint!"

Lelouch scowled, confusion filling his mind. _I don't understand! How could he know that? Unless that means he's…_

"And one of them…is right," Mao agreed, lowering his visor to reveal the twain phoenix sigils burning in his eyes, the representation of Geass.

_A Geass user! _Lelouch gasped, his eyes going wide as he began to panic. _But now he's open to my attack! If I can just… _He quickly activated his own Geass, ready to issue a command.

"No, no," Mao chided, replacing the visor swiftly, blocking Lelouch's power. "You can't use your Geass unless you look directly into your target's eyes. All those little rules, you see," Mao mused with an exaggerated shrug.

_He knows exactly what I'm thinking! _

"You read my mind!" Lelouch exclaimed, suddenly realizing the terrifying truth.

"Well that's_ my_ Geass," Mao admitted nonchalantly.

Lelouch bolted to his feet. "Did you shoot Shirley?" he demanded, his amethyst eyes blazing with anger. "Did you… Did you kill Shirley?" he repeated.

"Of course not," Mao protested cooly, just as Shirley slowly came down the steps outside the car, her eyes glazed over, her face expressionless, turning to look at Lelouch through the window.

_Shirley! She's right there… What's she doing?_

"Shirley," Lelouch called, riveting his eyes to the window.

"Well then. Time to deal out judgment, shall we?" Mao mused, standing to his feet just as Shirley slowly leveled a pistol at the box.

Lelouch ran out of the car onto the stairs where Shirley was waiting, followed carefully by Mao, who kept his distance, positioning himself between Lelouch and the only escape.

_She has my gun… She was definitely there at Yokosuka_

"Shirley. That gun…" Lelouch intoned, staring at the end of its barrel, his eyes wide with shock.

_We'll atone…together. You'll die…but it's the only way I'll ever be able to forgive you._

"Yes," Shirley answered bitterly, her hands unwavering as she held it aloft. "It's Zero's gun. Yours, Lulu."

"Use your Geass," Mao taunted from behind, bracing his hand against his hip. "You haven't used it on her yet, have you?"

Lelouch looked backwards, casting a fierce glare at Mao.

_Why is he doing this? Does he just despise Zero? Is it political? Did someone he cared about perish in the landslide too? Is it revenge, then? __**Could **__I use my Geass…? It would have to be quick…and I haven't used it on her before. It might be the only way to salvage the situation though…_

"But if you do that, I'll shoot you right where you stand," Mao warned, drawing a pistol and pointing it toward his ribs, all playfulness in his voice replaced by cold threat.

_Is it only my conscious mind he can read? Are there any limits to its use, like mine? What about time delay…how long can he keep it up? What does he want, anyway? If he's planning to kill me then…_

"Yes, think it over with that brilliant mind of yours," Mao mocked, spreading his arms for effect. "Let those cogs spin and spin away," he quipped, his language betraying his unique expertise.

"Shut up!" Lelouch barked.

Mao frowned at the outburst, but then his lips curled into a murderous smile. "This is a fitting end for a thief like you," he hissed, allowing himself to enjoy the feeling—it was the feeling of hard-earned triumph.

_No more of this… _

"Lulu, please, just die," Shirley called, waiting patiently.

Lelouch whirled back around once more to face the orange-haired girl.

"Let's atone for our sins," she pressed. "We have to. We'll die together."

"What?" Lelouch breathed, his shoulders falling in disbelief.

"She became a murderer for you," Mao explained, his pistol still leveled at Lelouch's back. "She shot the person who saw your face just to protect your secret."

_No, Shirley! Why?_

"Then, that bloodstain…" Lelouch muttered, his voice trailing off. _Well, that means I don't have to worry about __**that **__liability anymore… But—she's just a schoolgirl!_

"It's time to end this, Lulu," Shirley pressed once more.

"Yes, atonement," Mao called out soothingly, drawing a scowl from Lelouch.

"You bastard, what did you do to her? Did you put her up to this?" the young man demanded, but suddenly his eyes widened as realization dawned on his face. _If he can read people's minds, it would be easy for him to manipulate them and incite them to do all kinds of things!_

"Yes, exactly," Mao praised, slapping his hand against the barrel of his pistol several times, enjoying how this was playing out.

_If that's the case, I can turn this around. She has feelings for me—she'll listen to me. She's clearly unstable. I can still win… I just have to think of a way to protect my identity afterward._

"Don't let him fool you, Shirley!" Lelouch shouted suddenly. "He's just—"

"—How can you even say that? It was _you _who fooled her," Mao corrected fiercely, interrupting his attempt to confuse the poor girl.

Shirley's shoulders began to shake. "Stop it!" she shouted.

_I can do this… Shirley will listen to me. I won't have to lose anything._

"If murder is a sin, then sin no more!" Lelouch pressed, spreading his arms dramatically. It was one of Zero's most familiar poses, in fact.

"Oh you're good!" Mao retorted with a sneer. "You've really got a way with words."

Lelouch scowled. _Why isn't it working? _"Did you really kill him?" he asked, changing tactics. "Or did he just tell you that you did?" he pressed, pointing his finger at Mao in a sickening display of feigned drama.

Mao shook his head at the man's almost limitless capacity for deception. "She realized all by herself that there was no reason to keep hiding it," he countered, the truth plainly revealing Lelouch's words to be a lie.

_I should do it now. I have to do it now. I can't take anymore of this. Lulu shouldn't have to take anymore of this._

"It's not true, Shirley!" Lelouch shouted, his mind scrambling to come up with a convincing rebuttal.

Mao quickly stepped aside, readying himself for the shot.

"Why don't you just shut up!" Shirley screamed. She clenched her eyes and shook her head, her hands trembling as she fired off a round at Lelouch. The shot rang off the metal behind, just barely missing Lelouch's head as he flinched. He stumbled backward, losing his footing as he fell painfully to the ground, a mess of pictures tumbling out his jacket to the pavement below.

A smile curled at the corner of Mao's mouth as he looked down upon him from beneath that shiny visor, eager to witness the smug brat get what he deserved.

Lelouch felt his stomach tighten as he stared into the burning sky from the flat of his back, Mao's lean form towering over him triumphantly.

_Is this…really it? Defeated by a random stranger who I barely even know anything about… Betrayed by a friend? She shot me… Shirley actually shot me…_

_Is it done? My turn now then… Bullet to the brain...squish  
_

Shirley's eyes snapped opened to survey her work, but she froze as her gaze met the pictures now littering the stairs. They were all pictures of her, Lelouch and their friends from school—pictures she kept locked away in her room. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared down at the familiar images, the nostalgic faces, the heartwarming smiles. She lowered the gun, her body trembling.

"What are you waiting for?" Mao demanded, his voice suddenly serious once more as Lelouch struggled to sit up. "He killed your father! He's just a murderer. Kill _him **now**_!"

"But…" Shirley countered weakly, her first disobedience since they had met.

Mao felt his rage welling up within him, furious that she had dared to challenge his voice.

"Shirley," Lelouch called weakly once more, rising to his knees as he clutched his arm painfully.

"I…" Shirley intoned, indecision plaguing her. "I just…I don't…" _I…I have to…I can't…But Lulu…My father! Zero! What am I doing? I love him! I hate him! I need him! I want to kill him!_

Mao scowled as he rubbed his temple wearily. "What's with this girl? Her thoughts are all mixed up now. Fine, _I'll _just have to do it…" he mumbled, taking aim at the base of Lelouch's neck.

However, another shot rang out and Mao reflexively dropped to one knee, searching for the source. It was Shirley's gun. She had shot without even thinking about it. And missed.

"Stop! Just stop it!" Shirley screamed, brandishing the weapon out before her as if it were an extension of her arms.

"Alright, alright! Consider it stopped," Mao assured her, raising a hand into the air. "Why don't you two just work this out yourselves," he quipped, retreating back into the cable car. There was no reason to risk dying from a stray shot.

Overwhelmed, Shirley lowered the gun and fell forward.

_Lulu, please forgive me… I just can't do it_

"Shirley!" Lelouch called, rushing up and taking her into his arms.

"That's too bad, I had made it so dramatic," Mao mused as he gripped the shotgun he had hidden under the seats, loading several shots. "I'll just have to kill them both myself now. How boring…" he remarked dryly as he pumped the action, loading the round into the chamber.

Suddenly, however the cable car rocked violently, throwing off Mao's balance as the motorized doors closed.

"Who's there?" Mao shouted in confusion as he rushed toward the back. "Why didn't I sense them? Wait…could it be?" he muttered excitedly, going over to the window. There was only one blessed person in the world that could surprise Mao and sure enough, he could see C.C. standing just outside. Her hair was tied up and she was wearing a new ruffled white dress trimmed in red with a black ribbon tied around her delicate neck. Her lip curved into a soft frown as she looked upon Mao once more after all this time, sadness and shame mingling together in her eyes.

"It _is _you!" Mao shouted excitedly, pressing his gloved hands against the back window. "I've finally found you!" he called out, the shotgun clattering to the floor as he ripped off his visor and headphones to cast them away; like a child with a lollipop suddenly coming upon the entire candy store, staring in wide-eyed awe at the scented shelves filled with sparkling, rosy sweets. "It's you! It's _really_ you!"

"_Mao? Mao, are you awake? I'm sorry, Mao. See, that's the way, Mao-You can do it! Thank you, Mao…_," C.C.'s recorded voice streamed seductively into the open air of the empty car, each syllable laced with opium.

"You look lovely, C.C.! That new dress looks great!" Mao called out as the distance between their positions grew, his cable car slowly receding down the line. He panicked, clawing at the window excitedly. "C.C.! I'm coming to see you! I'll come back for you! I promise!" he shouted desperately, a thrilling exhilaration filling him as he suddenly realized just how much he had really missed her. "I promise!"

"Mao…" C.C. breathed, uttering the name that had not been on her lips since that fateful day. "I never thought you'd follow me among so many people…" she muttered in surprise, looking back at him thoughtfully.


	19. Running Mao: Hide and Seek

**Author's Notes: **__**Once more, I really don't mean to stretch anyone's patience. I've written a lot to show how Mao could logically and canonically arrive at the position we meet him in Stage 14. I feel I have to therefore describe what he is feeling during the events of the series itself, show how he set up the conditions, what his hopes for their outcome were, etc. I enjoy writing it and my hope is that people, such as yourself, enjoy reading it. I started out rather ambitiously. A stray thought of continuing Mao's story after the events of the one-shot I had already written, "The Day the Whole World Went Away", occurred to me. I began to think about it and finally wrote a test chapter ("Blending Mao"). But I was unsure if I could really, without rushing, carry Mao's story from those distant beginnings all the way to the events of the series in a plausible, interesting, and in-depth way. Based on the feedback I've received, I feel I did that. Now I'm here, and it's payoff for me, a way to dispel many annoying misconceptions I've encountered from **_**Code Geass **_**fans concerning Mao's actions in the episodes. There's (by necessity) new material ahead, though so don't worry. And, as always, thank you for reading and for the tons of helpful feedback and enjoyable banter.**

**Recommended Music:****, "Tokei no Haro no Oto" by Taniuchi Hideki from the **_**DEATH NOTE Original Soundtrack II**_**, followed by "Invisible Sound" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion Soundtrack, **_**followed by "Area 11" by the same from the **_**Code Geass R2 Soundtrack**_**, followed by _"_For The Reunion" by Nobuo Uematsu from the _Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Soundtrack_**

_**

* * *

**_

_**Running Mao**_

**(Hide and Seek)**_**  
**_

Mao looked up from the computer monitor, glancing toward the clock hanging on the far wall. It felt odd—not checking the position of the sun to judge time. But there was no sun in this place—merely the undying glare of artificial lighting and the endless tick of the clock. What unnerved Mao most however, was that this place was supposed to be quiet—advertised as quiet! But still as loud as anywhere he had ever been. Teachers, students, children and grandparents surrounded him, smiling contentedly as they read their own selections. But their minds were literally deafening! Pages and pages of narration coursed through their consciousness, and interpretations of that narration, and connections between that narration and their own situations, and similarities between different narrations! On and on it went; hundreds of stories, articles, and essays swirling around inside Mao's mind—and he couldn't keep up with any of it. His head swam.

Depleted, he briefly glanced back to the search results returned by the public computer. "The trip to Australia will be about six thousand nine hundred and ninety-three kilometers. That's about…nine hours. This won't be as easy…" he muttered, turning an atlas towards him. Looking around furtively, he carefully ripped a page from another book he had picked up—a map of Australia which included a precise coordinate table—and slid it inside his pocket. But what he needed now was a venue—some place large, but also unoccupied. After a few more pages, he found a local article, "Clovisland shuts its doors in wake of beloved Viceroy's death". He clicked on the link—there was a map. It wasn't too far away from both his apartment and Ashford Academy. "A perfect middle-ground," Mao mused as he memorized it's location. "And it's still vacant."

Mao sighed, ruminating over his latest failure. He had organized a brilliant plan, executed it perfectly and came so close to killing Lelouch. Nonetheless it had failed—he had relied too heavily on an unstable accomplice. He had caught Shirley when she was alone once more, but he couldn't play that card any longer. He deduced that Lelouch had simply used his Geass to erase _all _her memories of him, just to be careful no doubt. Gone were the tumultuous events of the previous day as far as her mind was concerned; the seclusion that he had so carefully orchestrated had turned out to be Lelouch's asset—for no one else could set the record straight now.

But even worse, he had revealed himself. Mao knew Lelouch was taking advantage of his position as Zero to divert all his resources to finding him as quickly as possible, and Mao was already having to hide from the hundreds of spies and informants the Black Knights employed, all of whom Lelouch seemed to have sent here to the Kanto block to scour every corner for in their hunt for him. At least here in this noisy library he had retreated to, he could wait in the security of a relatively public place till the early hours of the morning to make his move. Still, however, his true goal _had_ been realized—he had found C.C. again, after all this time. And there was still Nunnally, of course. But honestly, Mao didn't feel like bothering. He was growing tired of his long journey. He just wanted to go home with C.C. _now_. Seeing her so close the other day had made his longing almost too much to bear. What he had thought would be an exciting adventure filled with danger, intrigue and passion, turned out to be heart breaking, torturous and corrupting. If he and C.C. simply escaped, he wouldn't have to worry about Lelouch murdering her. Lelouch could have Japan, Britannia, hell, even the world for all Mao cared, so long as he let them be. The fact that Lelouch disgusted Mao as a person—his arrogance, his deceit, his disregard for freedom-was irrelevant. "If I can get C.C. away from Lelouch, he won't be able to use his Geass on me _or _steal C.C.'s life. Then we can escape. If he tries to follow us, I'll just tell the military that he's Zero. Since C.C. would be with me, I wouldn't have to worry about endangering her in the process anymore. He wouldn't dare risk himself, his vendetta, and Nunnally."

Mao's thoughts, however, took a darker turn as his recent encounter with C.C. came to mind. "She lied to me," he forced himself to admit. "She promised we would always be together…but she still left me anyway." Mao despised lies—hated how they covered the world in a blanket of fear and suspicion, how they drove people apart. But most of all, he hated that _she _had spoken them! To him of all people! But it was the truth. There was no denying it. "And what's more, I lied to her too. I promised to grant her wish," Mao admitted miserably. "But I couldn't do it. I failed her." None of that mattered, though, Mao realized. He loved her anyway. She who had given him this terrible power; she who had abandoned him to bear its torture alone. He didn't care. Because somewhere, she was suffering—it was _all_ that mattered. "How horrible it must be," Mao lamented. "To be so weary and sad that you _want _to die. Poor C.C.. She doesn't understand the value of living. I have to help her find happiness; give her joy again. She needs me…just like I need her! She's always been the same ever since I've known her—I never realized that all those years she was loathing her own existence…planning her death." Slowly a spark of hope returned to his forlorn eyes, however, as a stray idea occurred to him. "But…if all that was necessary to take her place was that my Geass mature, then she could have asked me a long time ago. But she waited years! Maybe she was trying to keep her promise but…" his voice trailed off, realizing several minds had turned their attention toward him.

_Is he talking to himself? Or just reading, maybe…_

_What a serious face! He looks Chinese. Perhaps he's having trouble reading. Stupid foreigners…_

Mao nervously felt for the visor hanging about his neck, but released it. It wouldn't do to try and read with it anyway. Standing to his feet, Mao pushed the chair in and struggled up the stairs, gripping the railing for support as he surveyed the massive library, filled with shelves, desks and columns.

_I didn't know that!_

_I think I'll skip my next class._

_When will we finally be out of school?_

_Was he really a Britannian student?_

_I should get a job_

_I wish I was a nobleman_

_Money… Need more money…_

_He's so pitiful!_

_I wish I could just __**kill **__her!_

_He's just so pitiful!_

_I just can't stand that kind of guy._

Mao staggered, losing his footing for a moment as he stretched out his hand to catch the banister. He caught sight of the clock but quickly turned away, clenching his teeth as sweat began to pour down his pale face. He tried to find something—anything-to concentrate on-anything to take the edge off. But there was only one person who could. Hurriedly, Mao ripped out the player, raising the volume sharply.

"_I understand, Mao. Don't worry, Mao. I won't die—I live on through you_… _Thank you, Mao_," what was supposed to be a collection of C.C.'s final words played, repeating over and over in a cherished loop.

"C.C.…I just can't live without you," Mao breathed as her voice worked through his body like opium, relieving him, exciting him as a cascade of endogenous dopamine coursed throughout his system. C.C. was better than drugs! He closed his eyes as a pained smile washed over his face. "Wait for me, I'm coming to you."

Replacing his visor, he cast another glance toward the clock. "Late enough. I can't sit here anymore," he muttered, quickly escaping out the doors and onto the street, a light rain greeting his shoulders. Drawing out his ring of keys, Mao turned down an alley into a private storage lot. "It's gonna be the best reunion ever!" he exclaimed excitedly. "But what if she won't come?" Mao asked suddenly, slowing his pace, shuffling his feet hesitantly. "She may try to stay so Lelouch can fulfill her contract…I can't…I just can't let him do that though. There's no way I can let her die—even if it's what she wants. I just can't. And that man—imagine what a bastard he would become were he able to live forever. I might even be saving the world by killing him, not that there's anything worth saving," Mao mused. "If she won't give up this suicidal scheme I'll…just _take_ her away. Sometimes…sometimes you have to save people from themselves. She once rescued me, now it's my turn to rescue her. It's the only way," he decided finally, a sudden firmness in his voice.

Looking over the numbers painted on the units, Mao found what he was looking for and went to the entrance. Checking around him to make sure no one was watching, he slid the key into the bolt and unlatched the door, hefting it up with both arms. Inside the dark space was a light blue airplane. It was still battered and scraped, but it would fly, Mao knew. And his modifications would ensure they had a smooth journey. More or less.

Absently, Mao ran an admiring hand over its dull, metallic coat. However, something suddenly occurred to him and he eyed the plane warily. "It's too small," he muttered in fearful disbelief. His main concern with the plane had been actually acquiring it and successfully flying it here but—he hadn't considered the size of the interior before. "There's no way C.C. and I can both fit in here—not like this." He suddenly felt a crushing despair, sapping his hopes. "There's no time," Mao muttered hoarsely, taking a breath to ease the frustration nagging at his mind.

Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Mao began contemplating what he could do in order to solve the problem. It was an engineering difficulty, after all. There had to be a way to fix it. "Even if I remove the seat," Mao realized. "It wouldn't be enough." He inspected the small cargo hold where he had stored his pistol before, an idea slowly coming to his mind. If not for the circumstances he would have surely thought it ridiculous. But he had been through quite a bit the past several months, his desperation driving him onward. "C.C. _is _immortal…" Mao began slowly. "If she 'slept' for a little while, I might be able to…make her fit for the flight. Fold her up somehow or make her…more compact. Then she could revive when we got there," Mao mused nervously. He had seen C.C. stand up completely restored from trauma that would instantly kill an ordinary human. Numerous times—hit by cars, falling into deep ravines, mauled by animals. She didn't even seem to need to breathe, shaking all it off as if were nothing. It _was _a strange thought. But Mao couldn't think of another solution. "If she can just fit inside this hold, we'll make it."

Leaving the unit, he locked it once more and walked away, sliding his hands into his pockets. "It seems I have a few things to pick up for our big night," Mao muttered as he doubled back to the main streets. Checking several buildings, he at last came to the first necessity of the hour. Given its small size, Mao felt he had a fair chance of success.

_Hey, I'm driving here!_

_Idiot!_

_Well if he gets hit, it's his fault_

Pushing through a pair of double doors, he was confronted by a cramped, dimly lit shop. It dealt in professional equipment, including personal defense. But unlike with Javier or Doragoniki and his resistance fighters, there would be a lot more hassle involved here due to the severe restrictions placed on the sale of firearms. Shotguns, rifles and handguns were securely bolted to the wall alongside more mundane hardware like electric saws and drills, all behind a grated screen separating the shop from the waiting area. Cases of ammunition could be seen stacked up to the ceiling in the hall behind.

Seeing no one, Mao banged firmly on the metal. Tapping his foot impatiently, he began gently massaging his temple while he perused the inventory, searching for something that might help him.

_Someone's here already?_

_At this hour?_

_"Hideki, go deal with them while I finish this order."_

_"Oh, alright."_

_I could do the order myself… _

A glint of metal caught Mao's eye and his attention turned toward a shiny new chainsaw mounted upon the wall. "Electric battery, polymer housing, hand guards…spark muffler," Mao read quietly as he examined the tool.

"Can I help you? I see you're looking at chainsaws," a cheerful voice asked. He was close by. Very close.

Mao blinked, turning toward a young man with a cigarette gripped between his teeth. The nametag read, "Hideki." An Eleven.

"Uh...yes," Mao recovered quickly, his eyes returning warily to the sharp blade.

"So what type of saw are you looking for?" Hideki pressed. "It really depends on what you need to do with it, you know."

Mao nodded. "Well I have to…uh…cut a few things down to size," he explained slowly, feeling quite awkward. "I suppose having a chainsaw would be useful in Australia too though…" he mumbled to himself. "When we start our garden we'll probably have to clear the way…"

"Then you'll probably want one of these," Hideki replied, taking the chainsaw down from the wall and laying it on the counter. "They come fully equipped with the most powerful battery we offer, which means they spin the fastest. Plus they're outfitted with our sharpest blade. They'll get the job done—whatever it is. Seriously, they can cut through _anything_, as long as you give it time." A grin spread across the man's face. "You see, it's all because the engine contains a liquid sakuradite feed, exponentially increasing the power output of the battery," Hideki explained, his excitement growing with each word. "It's one of the first of a new line of hardware utilizing portable sakuradite. If machines like this catch on, it'll mean a whole new market–no longer just the military."

Tentatively, he raised a hand to the blade, slowly feeling the edge. His heart raced, pounding in his ears.

"Are…are you alright," Hideki ventured.

Mao's eyes snapped back up—completely startled—breathing heavily. "I'm worried about it making…a mess though," he ventured, his stomach suddenly feeling queasy.

"Mess?" the man repeated, confused.

"I don't want to get…uh…shavings all over the ground, you know?" Mao explained weakly. "Do you have any really clean ones?"

"Well, this one has an air filter which draws the excess into a chamber where it's burned into particulate exhaust, certainly reducing the mess," Hideki corrected gently. "But at the end of the day it's still a blade spinning on a chain loop, cutting into thick slabs of whatever-it's gonna leave some shavings behind."

"...Alright then," Mao replied nervously, pulling down the device carefully.

"Here, I can ring you up right here. Would you like a case for the saw?" Hideki asked, lifting up a discreet polymer unit.

"Yes, thank you," Mao replied gratefully.

"And is that all?" Hideki asked absently as he priced out the purchase, indicating the monitor as he packed the chainsaw into the case, bolting it on the side.

"I also need some ammunition," Mao added casually, his tone chosen to hide the importance of the request.

Hideki looked back toward the gun rack and shuffled his feet nervously. "Uh…well, I'm not allowed to sell those. I'll have to go in the back and get the boss. Wait just a moment, alright?"

Mao nodded, laying his arms on the counter.

_I hope he's not in some kind of trouble… He seemed like a nice guy._

"Hold on, I'm coming, I'm coming," a man called out after a few moments as he stepped in from the back, carrying a large box full of ammunition and setting it down wearily, he wiped his forehead and turned to face Mao.

_He looks Chinese…_

"How can I help you?" the elderly gentleman asked carefully.

"I need ammunition for the pistol, automatic rifle, submachine gun and shotgun. I'll pay you double the price for no trouble," Mao replied without hesitation.

The shopkeeper adjusted his glasses and drew down a shotgun from one of the upper shelves. "I can't sell to you without a permit," he warned, shaking his head.

A scowl spread across Mao's face and he quickly probed the man's mind.

"You're from the Chinese Federation aren't you?" the man pressed suspiciously, slowly wiping down the barrel with a rag.

"Is that so?" Mao asked, ignoring the question. "Yet you seem to make an exception for the Black Knights."

The man gasped, almost dropping the weapon.

_What is he talking about…? How could he…_

"Last Tuesday at 11 P.M.," Mao continued. "The client's name was Wolfe. Well, that was an alias, of course."

_How…? How does he know about Wolfe?_

"You…" the man breathed in disbelief, turning toward his face in shock.

"Well those _were_ extenuating circumstances, I suppose," Mao feigned, leaning forward and carefully lowering the visor ever so slightly to reveal the twain phoenixes subsuming his irises.

The shopkeeper's own eyes widened as he struggled to make a reply.

"I'm warning you," Mao threatened, replacing the visor. "I could destroy your business with a single report. And you know it. Sell to me—you make a good profit, keep your business and avoid imprisonment or worse. The administration is _very_ harsh with terrorist collaborators these days, you know. You give me what I need, I'll be on my way. It'll be our secret."

The man looked away, his world feeling like it had turned upside down. "Fine," he muttered breathlessly, picking out several cartridges of the necessary ammunition.

"Excellent," Mao praised as he folded his arms and leaned smugly back against the counter, listening to the man's thoughts carefully.

_He knows all about it. There's nothing I can do. _

"Is this enough?" he asked timidly, indicating the load.

Mao nodded. "Just put it all in this," he instructed, dropping a dark bag on the smooth surface.

When the man had finished, he zipped up the trove and slid it towards Mao, averting his gaze.

_He must be some kind of criminal… If he were one of Viceroy Cornelia's people, he wouldn't be using his knowledge to blackmail me like this. Still, to know that I sold to the Black Knights… It doesn't make any sense. _

Mao grabbed another pack of batteries from the small display for good measure and tossed it on the counter as well. His player had been draining them like crazy, much the same way a chain smoker went through cigarettes. Soon, though, very soon, he wouldn't need them anymore—his player would be replaced with the real thing in just a short while.

Without a word, Mao snatched up the bag, slung it over his shoulder, and laid out several bills on the counter, gripping the handle of the case. "Take your wife some place nice," he added over his shoulder as he left the store.

_My wife? How dare he!_

Chuckling to himself, Mao turned the corner and ran across the street, avoiding the line of incoming traffic. "I have to hurry," he muttered as gazed into the night sky, a soft illumination spreading in the east. Trying to keep a low profile, he kept his Geass alert for Lelouch's spies. Though, of course, anyone Lelouch had used Geass upon would have no memories Mao could exploit, his intimate understanding of the young Britannian's mind gave him reason to believe Lelouch wouldn't waste his only absolute orders to his minions for such a simple affair.

"After all, Lelouch only intends to keep the Black Knights around for so long…he'll need his Geass for the future. Additionally, his victims would be restricted by their personal knowledge and could act on no more," Mao mused.

Returning down the same alleyway, Mao again slid the key into the storage unit and, hooking a chain underneath the nose, pulled the craft out into the open. It was surprisingly light, rolling smoothly along its wheels. Opening the cockpit, he threw the bag with his guns into the seat inside, along with the case containing the new chainsaw. His hands free once more, he drew out a map of Tokyo Settlement. "So Clovisland is this way," Mao muttered as he gripped the chain in his palm and dragged it outside the lot.

He attempted to stay off main streets as best as he could, but he still felt rather conspicuous. The few who _were _out this early merely turned and looked, their thoughts filled with innocent curiosity. No one seemed too worried though. And if there were spies, Mao was forced to conclude that they were both unaware of it because of Lelouch's Geass _and_ too incompetent to take action.

The walk was slow, but after a couple of hours, Mao finally trudged up to the entrance of the abandoned theme park. Mao pulled the craft inside, concealing it along a narrow stretch of pavement behind a winding rollercoaster. The park was simply enormous! It stretched on for hundreds of meters, completely empty—and so wonderfully silent! Many of the rides were simply there to transport people from one attraction to the other because of the incredible distances between them. And in the center stood a huge Ferris wheel, the largest Mao had ever seen. "Plenty of space to take off from here," Mao muttered as he released the chain and withdrew his visor, wiping the sweat from the bridge of his nose and his eyes. Opening the cockpit, he took out the pistol from his pack and slid it under his coat. He then unlatched the case for the chainsaw, drawing the implement out carefully.

There was a large sound stage nearby, buttressed by several smooth columns, complete with a video projection screen. Mao walked over to the raised platform and laid the chainsaw down beside it. Surveying his surroundings, Mao felt satisfied by the solitude…but _not_ the darkness. "Let's see. How do I turn this place on?" he muttered, looking around for some kind of power source. "This looks promising," he mused as he took a staircase to a small overlook containing a row of panels and switches. "Must be the control booth."

He tried several toggles and buttons, but nothing seemed to be responding. He turned towards the electrical box therefore and, gripping the door, quickly threw it open and stepped aside in case of an arc. Its safety proven, Mao peered down into the mess of wires and cables. "Ah, so here's the problem," Mao muttered as he noted the positions of several disconnected fuses. "At least they're undamaged," he mused as he carefully reinserted them into the appropriate slots, mentally tracing the path of the current. The lights above the booth flickered for a moment, illuminating the rest of his surroundings in a fluorescent glow. Closing the door, he flipped every switch he could see on the panel.

His eyes danced with excitement as he watched several colorful beams begin to shine, carousels and other rides whirling to life. The lanterns crowning the columns on either side of the screen came on, casting their warm glow across the stage. A playful melody began to stream over the grounds through a series of monitors and loudspeakers.

Mao stared in awe. He had seen parks like this as a child on the streets of China. He had envied the happy, clean faces he saw laughing and giggling as they played on the rides—wondering what it must be like. Shaking away the unpleasant memory, he searched around the room.

In one of the cabinets, he found a remote control. It didn't appear to be active. Mao sat down at one of the seats overlooking the grounds, opened up the device and checked the hertz range of the crystal inside. Glancing toward the control panel, he found several knobs, labeled for different frequencies. Tuning the switches to the proper hertz, Mao adjusted the slider on the remote to synchronize the signal.

Holding his breath, he pressed in the remote. Immediately, the lights switched off, the rides slowed to a stop and the cheerful music ended. Pressing the device again, however, quickly reactivated everything. "Perfect," Mao muttered as he slid the remote into his pocket.

Taking a stroll through the park grounds, he enjoyed the colorful sights and happy sounds for a moment. He climbed atop the carousel, seating himself on a painted white horse. A bit nervous, he took several turns around the ride, his smile broadening with each rotation. Eventually he couldn't stop laughing as he went round and round, raising his arms above his head as the air rushed against him. After several turns though, he stepped off once more, his mood lifted.

"Everything's ready to invite C.C. now," Mao mused happily as he walked up to a public phone stationed nearby. Expecting a difficult routing process, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the former maintainers had simply disconnected the node and cable for the device. Hardly an effective deterrent.

Opening the small box underneath, Mao carefully inserted the coaxial cable, testing the connection. Sure enough, he could hear a tone on the other end. He discarded the node so his position wouldn't be traced and leaned back against the stand, dialing the number to Lelouch's cell phone he had learned from Shirley, tapping his foot impatiently as it rang for several moments.

"_Yes?_" a nervous voice answered.

"Lulu, it's me," Mao replied, deliberately using Shirley's nickname of endearment for him in order to unnerve him. "Is C.C. there? I want to talk to her alone. Hand her the phone," he ordered.

After a brief pause, C.C. came on the line. "_Hello,_" she greeted carefully. "_You wanted to talk to me?_"

"C.C., it's me," Mao replied cheerfully.

"_Mao…_" C.C. said in a low tone, apparently not wanting Lelouch to overhear.

"I'm waiting for you at Clovisland. Come alone," Mao explained.

"_You're determination is as strong as ever, I see,_" C.C. mused.

"If you don't come, I'll have to expose Lelouch's identity," Mao warned. "I can kill him at anytime, you know."

C.C. sighed. "_There's no need, Mao. I'll be right there."_

"Alright, I'll wait for you then," Mao replied, stretching up on the balls of his feet with anticipation. He refused to hang up until C.C. severed the connection herself.

After the call ended, he walked over to the carousel and climbed atop the white horse again to wait. "I'll appear and surprise her," he muttered excitedly, deactivating the park with his remote, blanketing the area in darkness.

* * *

**Endsong:**** "Possession" by Sarah McLachlan**

**Author's Note: Regarding the chainsaw, as it demonstrates the **_**impossible **_**ability to diagonally slash through solid metal in Stage 15, I decided to 'handwave' it by giving it sakuradite. Let the physicists crucify me!**


	20. Grinning Mao

**Author's Notes: ****I'm glad people found the last chapter funny—I had a lot of fun writing it too. On a side note, I hope everyone knows that the musical recommendations I give are really just what I envision while writing the scenes and purely shared for fun, right? You can listen to whatever you like. They simply happen to be what inspired me during the creative process. What's important to me is that you enjoy the story. ****There as a bit irony in the last chapter and that was kinda the **_**whole**_** point-Lelouch and Mao are very similar in some respects. Although they also have complementary differences in others I find—like they are each others twin and opposite at the same time. I've really tried to put myself in Mao's perspective and ponder what I would be thinking in order to come up with the particular actions he chose, given the goal, and what I would need to do in order to set up those conditions, given the circumstances.**

**Recommended Music:**** "Aerith's Theme (Piano Version)" by Nobuo Uematsu from the **_**Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Soundtrack**_**, followed by "All In the Mind," by Murray Gold from the **_**Doctor Who Series 4 Soundtrack**_**, followed by (once Lelouch appears) "The Master" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass R2 Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Advent: One Winged Angel" by Nobuo Uematsu from the **_**Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Soundtrack,**_** finishing with "A Dazzling End," by Murray Gold from the **_**Doctor Who Series 4 Soundtrack**_**.**

* * *

_**Grinning Mao**_

After a half an hour or so, Mao heard footsteps approaching. There were no accompanying thoughts he could sense, only a steady breath, and he knew it was his beloved finally come back to him.

Stopping beside the carousel, she looked around for him, a fiery glow exuded from the phoenix sigil which suddenly appeared on her forehead. Grinning, Mao ceremoniously pressed the remote, suddenly illuminating the area with warm pink and purple tones as a melodic tune streamed gently over the grounds—serenading the spin of the carousel as C.C. came into view—the one he needed now more than ever. The only person he had ever loved. She was wearing that lovely white ruffled dress, trimmed in red and black, with a sexy ribbon tied around her delicate neck. Her porcelain skin looked so smooth, bathed in the violent and magenta hues, and her emerald hair fell around her face, adorned with fresh cherry blossoms. Beside her a sign read, "Please hold onto small children."

"C.C. my beloved!" Mao called out excitedly as his white horse came around the carousel, spreading his arms open.

C.C. smiled warmly back at him, her golden eyes dancing like pools of liquid light. How he longed to dive into those pools once more, simply staring into them for hours on end.

"My knight," C.C. called back wistfully.

Vaulting from the ride, Mao landed on his feet gracefully and strode towards her, slightly nervous. "I'm here to rescue you," he ventured.

"Mao. I'm so happy to see you," C.C. replied, a rosy flush spreading through her cheeks as she stepped towards him. "You came all this way just for me, leaving your cherished forests and mountains…"

"Well, of course!" Mao replied, tossing his headphones away to the ground. "Those things are nothing without you there."

"But it must have been so dangerous." C.C. pressed. "I'm just glad you're alright."

Mao nodded proudly. "Indeed it _was_ dangerous," he added with a sultry smirk. "I fought countless enemies and overcame many obstacles. But it was worth it! Here I am—and here you are!"

"Mao I…" C.C.'s voice faltered for a moment. "I'm so sorry for asking you to do that—for leaving you. I was so selfish… All those mean things I said, they were just lies—all of them. Please, forgive me my love?"

Mao felt his chest tighten and leaning forward, he clasped her hands, gripping them tightly. It was done and they were both still alive! He had come through that awful solitude and she was with him now. Mao could think of nothing suddenly except holding her, crushing her to him, never letting go ever again.

"I love you, C.C.," Mao declared rapturously, wrapping his strong arms around her supple waist. He could feel her hot breath on his face as she replied, "I love you too, Mao," her voice soft and resonant.

Lifting C.C. off of her feet in one deft motion, Mao swung her up in his arms as they turned round and round. He threw his head back as laughter poured out of him. Soon C.C. joined in and together they made a heartwarming harmony.

Setting her back upon her feet, Mao took hold of her, nestling his face into her hair, soaking up the warmth of her body. They were together and nothing would separate them now. That was the new world and she was its only god. Straining her closer, Mao bent his face down towards hers, staring deep into her eyes. Golden and sparkling, they gazed back at him. Mao felt his mouth water and slowly C.C. lifted her head to meet his kiss. Their lips clasped, holding tightly to each other. Heat spread down the length of Mao's body and he continued to grip her mouth hungrily like a newborn suckling for nourishment.

After what felt like an eternity of unending bliss, they parted to regard each other, Mao breathing heavily, C.C. just smiling softly. The pleasure he felt was almost too much to bear, threatening to exhaust him. The sun had risen it seemed, spreading its rays across the sleepy park.

"C.C., I bought a house in Australia!" Mao shared excitedly. "It's a beautiful, quiet, white cottage with plenty of wild land all around it. We can live there—just you and me. Turn it into a garden! How does that sound?"

"It's sounds wonderful, Mao!" C.C. agreed, catching and reflecting his enthusiasm. "Our own house! And I'll keep my promise—I'll stay there with you forever."

Mao's adoring eyes watered as his beaming smile returned. "Hold on, just one moment," he said gently as he left her to head to the nearest roller coaster. Gripping the chain he had left there, he slung it over his shoulder and toed his plane out into the open, stopping just a few paces from her.

"And this—" Mao began proudly. "Is how we're going to get there!"

"Wow!" C.C. gasped. "This—this is incredible, Mao. The house and…our own airplane?"

Mao shrugged with a knowing grin, opening the hatch and spreading his hand affectionately over the collection of assault weapons stored inside. The touch of their cool metal seemed to awaken something in him, however, and he looked around warily—taking his mind off C.C. for just a moment to probe his surroundings.

"Is something wrong?" C.C. asked, concern etched on her face.

"No, my love," Mao replied quickly, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Uh…C.C.?"

"Yes, Mao?" she replied.

"Well… It was pure luck that I was able to find a plane like this and…I had to get here as quickly as possible so I didn't think about space but…well, C.C., you're just too big to fit on the plane," Mao related, suddenly feeling ashamed.

C.C. nodded, glancing toward the internal structure, waiting expectantly for his plan.

Mao took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, as he turned and walked toward the soundstage. Gripping the chainsaw he had left there, he lifted it into the air and pulled the choke. It was surprisingly quiet for a device of its kind, Mao thought as he brought it back to show C.C.

C.C.'s wide eyes appeared riveted to the spinning blade for a moment.

"I thought maybe I could make you more…_compact_ for the trip," Mao explained nervously. "It'll be quick if I use this."

C.C. looked back and forth between the chainsaw and Mao's pleading eyes. After a moment, she smiled. "I understand," she said finally. "You've done the best you could. Should I lay down?"

Mao nodded, breathing a relieved sigh as she sank to her knees and lay flat on her back. She was taking this surprisingly well. Mao swallowed hard as he knelt down beside her. His hands were shaking but a reassuring squeeze from C.C.'s put him at ease.

"Do it quickly my love," C.C. instructed.

Mao nodded profusely. "I'm going to start with your head," he explained carefully as he brought the blade near her neck. Holding his breath, he brought it down, the spinning teeth quickly cutting through the ribbon, tissues and arteries. After a few moments, however, the air filter Hideki had promised seemed to reach its capacity, spraying his face and collar with the rest of her deep crimson blood. C.C. clenched her eyes tightly as her body shuddered from the pain and Mao bit his lip to stifle the scream welling up in his throat.

After a moment, however, it was done, and Mao gently pulled the cleanly severed head away from the base of her neck, setting her upright and smoothing out her hair. A puddle of blood continued to accumulate under the base however and Mao felt intensely nauseous.

"The worst is over, C.C.," Mao said, trying to sound reassuring. "You won't feel any more pain."

C.C. made no reply.

Bringing the dripping blade down once more, Mao cut each arm at the shoulder, careful not to damage any bones, and, putting them together, took them and set them carefully inside the small hold of the plane. He then cut through her stomach, closing his eyes against a torrent of spewed blood and organs splashing against his clothes, along with half-digested bits of pizza.

Wiping the gore from his face, he froze, staring at his fingers. He could have sworn there was something… But they were all there, no more, no less. "I guess it was nothing," he muttered, moving the device down lower, separating her legs from her torso. But his unfamiliarity with such precise anatomy forced him to take it out a few times when he encountered bone. Finally, he found a clean path and he cut through them as well. But her once pretty legs now looked marred by several unfinished gashes. Oh well, they would heal.

The gruesome task finally complete, he set the chainsaw down and threw her dismembered legs over his shoulder, inserting them into the chamber inside the plane. At first they wouldn't fit, so he bent them at the knees before they became stiff, sliding them in beside the arms. Next he gathered her torso and put it in against the corner and, finally, placed her chest on top of it. Satisfied, he secured the hold and stepped back down.

"Your head will stay up front with me," Mao explained. "As long as you're kept separate, you shouldn't revive until we get there." He rubbed his aching shoulder for a moment, sore from having to hold the shaking device so steadily. His clothes were drenched in her gore and his sweat, mingling together and collecting in a pool at his feet.

Lifting up C.C.'s head, he set it upon the nose of the plain for a moment as he grabbed the chainsaw to slide it into the hold. Her blood ran a thin streak down to the tip of the otherwise light blue plane before it finally congealed.

Something caught his attention, however—the text affixed to the face of the sign. Inexplicably it seemed to have changed, now reading, "In the real dark night of the soul, it is always three o'clock in the morning_._" Was it a different sign?

"Strange…" Mao muttered.

_Now I have you!_

_There he is!_

_What a creep!_

_Why's he covered in blood—wait—holy shit is that a head on the plane?_

_Zero never said anything about him having weapons…_

Mao's eyes widened, and his fingers quickly snatched up the visor and covered his eyes, gripping the assault rifle and drawing it out, whirling around with the chainsaw held aloft in one hand and the machine gun aimed with the other.

Suddenly there was an explosion several paces away which began spewing thick gray smoke into the air, covering the entire spot. It was just as he feared—there were definitely people hiding in that mist.

"TO PROTECT JAPAN FROM _DEVASTATION_!" a female sang out.

"TO DRIVE OUT THE BRITANNIANS FROM OUR _NATION_!" some men chimed in.

"TO EXPOSE THE EVIL OF LIES AND _HATE_," the woman continued to sing.

"TO MAKE THE WORLD REMEMBER THAT **WE ARE **_**GREAT**_**!**," the voices of the men thundered.

"WE ARE **THE ORDER OF THE BLACK KNIGHTS ™!**"they all shouted in unison, finally emerging from the smoke.

"SURRENDER NOW OR PREPARE TO _FIGHT_!"

_Cause we are gonna kick so much damn ass!_

Kallen strode forward out of the mist, swinging her hips proudly with one hand resting atop them. "I'm so gorgeous!" she declared, brushing a hand through her red tresses.

"And I'm always _the man_!" a scruffy guy called Tamaki shouted, following behind, a cigarette gripped between his teeth and his hand slid surreptitiously in his pants.

He was followed by Ohgi, Diethard and Todoh, who kept quiet, seemingly too embarrassed by the spectacle that they felt guilty of merely by association.

"YOU'RE JUST THE PLAYERS IN _**MY **__MASTER PLAN_!" Zero barked sternly, finally emerging from the eerie smoke to face him in his customary purple cape and gothic mask.

"Lelouch…," Mao growled as Zero, surrounded by his entourage of uniformed Black Knights posed menacingly. They were armed with machine guns, their faces concealed beneath visors as well.

Zero cocked his masked face to the side in defiance. Slowly a rumble of mocking laughter erupted from deep within his throat, echoing throughout the vacant park. Mao shuddered.

"Do you think you can win by that? So you've revealed who I am—what of it?" Zero demanded, drawing a gasp from his compatriots. He cast off the mask, revealing the face of Lelouch, his violet eyes locked into a contemptuous stare, his raven hair swirling around his face as if it had a mind of its own. A demonic mind.

"Lelouch? All along… How come _he_ knew though?," Kallen muttered.

"He's Britannian!" Ohgi exclaimed in surprise.

"Just a kid…" Tamaki scoffed.

"Incredible!" Diethard remarked with his usual reserved excitement.

Todoh said nothing, his hand gripping the hilt of his _katana _cautiously.

"But what are you planning to do when this is over, Lelouch?" Mao demanded, his confidence returning. "Erase all their memories too?"

"Pay no attention to this jerk's words—he'll play mind games with you; get inside your head," Lelouch cautioned his compatriots. "It's how he takes control—sowing division and doubt. Just remember the truth and you'll be fine."

"The truth?" Mao scoffed. "Not a single thing you've told them has been true."

"Well, regardless of who you are, we stand with you, Zero," Kallen declared fervently, trying to ignore the ominous feeling that Mao somehow knew Lelouch, her hero Zero, far more intimately than she. "Right everyone?"

"Kallen? I've been wanting to kill you ever since that day in Narita," Mao spat. "So glad you came. I notice you're here and Nagato's not. Oh that's right, you let him die while you fled isn't that right? Was that patriotism…or pragmatism? Or perhaps cowardice!"

Kallen's face paled ever so slightly as her eyes widened. She knew that face! "You were…the man with the shotgun!"

"You know him?" Lelouch demanded, turning towards her.

"Yeah I…encountered him in Shinjuku when I stole the poison gas. Remember Ohgi?" Kallen explained.

_So you've been chasing C.C. before I was even aware of her… What a loser!_

Ohgi nodded, musing over how far they'd come from such humble beginnings under Zero's command.

"And Ohgi?" Mao laughed. "I'm so grateful to you for these weapons. Doragoniki, or should I say Kazuma, was so generous after he heard your name. But he's dead now too… Wait a moment, though, you were in the same ghetto. Why didn't you go back for him?"

Ohgi scowled.

"It doesn't matter what you say—Zero's done right by us so far. Me and him are pals," Tamaki quipped boisterously, pointing his thumb to his heart. "You're nothing but some damn freak!"

Mao laughed aloud. "Pals? He views you as his _most _incompetent slave Tamaki—not worthy of being trusted with anything but the most menial tasks. You're an embarrassment to him."

"That's not true, Tamaki," Lelouch covered quickly, casting a glare Mao's way for good measure.

"Right, right. I knew that," Tamaki nodded profusely, stepping back and looking down nervously.

"I must say you're fascinating though," Diethard mused. "The way you talk—so smooth. You're insight, your choice of words. You're even more persuasive than Zero, if such a thing were possible. It's almost uncanny. You would make an incredible propagandist for our cause."

"And Diethard the traitor, how perfect!" Mao scoffed. "Remember me? I was the angry viewer who demanded that you cease airing Zero's speeches. I see you've taken my off handed advice, however, a bit literally and joined with him. A self-fulfilling accusation. Well, are you happy with your god? Pleased by the fact that you can worship at his flesh and blood feet, feel the rush of his glory. But you'll lose everything I warn you—it will sweep you up and destroy you."

Diethard raised an eyebrow, brushing the freakishly long bang from his face with a tinge of annoyance. "Well done then, I was completely fooled. But I'm only interested in the future. Zero can take us there—dispensing with the unnecessary trammels of a decadent past." He stared wistfully into the sky, his eyes gleaming at the thought. "I will never forsake him!"

"And even if Zero isn't who we thought he was," Ohgi began, smiling sheepishly. "He's still better than who he's not. And he never said who he was anyway. So it's not as if he's anybody who we knew he wasn't because of what he said. He's someone who we didn't know who he was because he didn't say, which is alright because he's still better than anybody else who we know who they are. Right?"

There was a moment of awkward silence as all eyes turned toward Ohgi in confusion.

_What the hell does that even mean? Wait, never mind—I don't really give a damn so long as they obey me…_

"Wrong!" Mao countered fiercely, interrupting the stare. "Lelouch is only using you. Once he has what he wants, you will become just another liability and he will dispense with you. You should know about that, right Todoh?"

Lelouch waited patiently with his hands on his hips; a maddening smirk upon his face.

_Go ahead Mao. Just try it. Aren't you convinced of their unshakable loyalty to me yet?_

Todoh's eyes darkened. "I have nothing to say to you."

Mao shook his head. "Does anyone remember you're once proud allies—the Japan Liberation Front? Did you think that the explosion at Yokosuka was a coincidence? Lelouch—Zero—rigged the liquid sakuradite to explode. He used the JLF as bait and then executed them as part of his trap. That's the kind of manipulative, deceptive person he is."

Diethard nodded. "What of it? I already suspected as much."

But Kallen and Ohgi audibly gasped, while Todoh clenched his fists. Tamaki merely fidgeted nervously.

"Seriously, you people actually follow this guy?" Mao baited, keeping the grip on his weapons tight. This was dangerous, he knew. The only thing in his favor was his knowledge that they wouldn't shoot without an order from Zero. Mao probed his mind. Lelouch didn't appear to have prearranged a sign with them, meaning they were awaiting his command. "A demoted Britannian prince who's easily exhausted by the simplest physical tasks? Just a spoiled royal brat looking to get the army he never got because his mommy was shot up. Have you actually won a battle yet? Or merely fled and survived when things got heated? Using other people as you're shields even. Do you really think you're heroes?"

Mao smirked. He could feel the confusion, the doubt, the fear spreading through the ranks like leaven.

One by one the Black Knights sank to their knees, trembling with disgust, unable to disregard Mao's words any longer. Soon only Diethard and Todoh remained beside their leader.

"How could you, Lelouch!" Kallen wailed in anguish, tears streaming down her face as she wept. "All along, you were just using me? I…I loved you!"

"You said you were our friend, man!" Tamaki protested as manly tears fought for freedom from his eyes as well.

"Oh would you be quiet," Lelouch chided. "So what! We're stronger for it now aren't we? The important thing is Japan's freedom, her independence. I shed a tear when I think of her ravaged countryside, her languishing people. The JLF's vision was simply unworthy of her greatness."

"So you _did_ betray the JLF?" Todoh spat. "Figures. The moment I think there might be hope for Japan it turns out you're just another opportunist who wants to use us for his own ends. Screw you, Zero! I'm not your tool!" In a flash, he drew his _katana_, raising the weapon into the air along the traditional _iaido _arc. Finally, he plunged it into his gut, falling to his knees and joining the others. A muffled gurgle issued from his throat as he slowly died. "Kimi ga yo wa! Nihon! Bonsai!" he shouted defiantly, slumping over on his side.

"What is wrong with you bunch of weaklings," Diethard demanded. "Zero is our god! If we just remain faithful, he will grace us with a utopia beyond our wildest dreams…"

Lelouch's eyes widened. "Can it, Diethard!" he shouted sternly. "Damn you, Mao. How dare you challenge me! _Me_! The god of this world! I am these pathetic people's only hope. I am the voice of progress, justice, and truth. I am the savior of Japan and the rightful heir to the throne of Britannia. Anyone who opposes me has merely to cast their defiant gaze my way, and they shall be destroyed in an instant."

Diethard clamped his mouth shut and joined the others. "Yes, Zero," he obeyed timidly, shuddering as an orgasm racked his body. Lelouch's words were just so…powerful.

"No, you're just a bastard drunk on too much power," Mao countered angrily.

"Kallen! Tamaki! Ohgi!" Lelouch called, snapping them to attention. "Kill him. Now!"

_It was my intention to humiliate you before I killed you but now I'm pissed. Oh well, can't let pride get in the way of temper._

Without a thought, they raised their machine guns and rushed toward Mao, holding the trigger as they swiveled the barrel haphazardly. The shrill din of automatic gunfire filled the air.

But Mao was infinitely faster. Somehow dodging the streaking bullets, he swung his chainsaw in a deadly one-handed arc, cleaving Ohgi clean in two. The Eleven cried out in anguished pain as he crumpled into himself, drenching the ground in entrails. Meanwhile, Mao fired the assault rifle with his other hand, driving Kallen and Tamaki back to the ground full of hot metal, coughing blood profusely.

Mao looked down at his wrist in surprise. He had managed to accurately aim an assault rifle and sustain the force with just one hand. "Incredible!" he muttered in cheerful surprise, turning his wrist over to make sure.

"I'm…sorry….Lelouch," Kallen wheezed as she lay down. "I am beaten. Mao was just too strong—too fast. I…love you."

"Yeah, man… We're still you're…still you're…Black Knights," Tamaki agreed, falling on top of her, his hands gripping her breasts with the last of his strength.

"Get off me you pervert!" Kallen shouted with her last breath, rolling away to bleed to death alone.

"Can't even…get some action…when I'm…dying," Tamaki expired. "The last stand of Tamaki, the badass virgin!"

Mao lifted his face back toward Lelouch, newly covered in fresh gore. His eyes narrowed into a defiant stare—almost daring him to try him. "Looks like you'll have to do your own dirty work for once, Lulu," he hissed.

_He defeated my elite Black Knights…just like that? Impossible! Those fools—what the hell was all that training for? Nothing! Worthless bunch of…_

Lelouch appeared visibly shaken, swirling his cape dramatically in an attempt to make himself feel better. Wrenching Todoh's sword out of his dangling intestines, he held it aloft, brandishing it against Mao.

Mao scoffed, laughing profusely at the ridiculous display. "You dare to challenge me in a test of physical prowess?" he demanded, ripping off his coat and shirt, baring his lean chest. Lelouch was taken aback by the size of his muscles for a moment. He had no idea how fit Mao was underneath all that leather.

_But I bet __**I**__ look really cool standing here like this… Zero really should start carrying a sword around on television. It just gives the right image...  
_

A murderous gleam shined in Lelouch's shiny, shiny eyes. "Rrrraah!" he cried as he rushed forward, plunging the blade through the air toward Mao.

_You shall be the latest of Zero's defeated enemies! With you out of the way, the world is mine!_

"So be it!" Mao spat, performing an incredible back flip and landing atop the saddle of the white horse. Stretching out the chainsaw, he spun its blade and rode toward Lelouch, galloping across the park grounds at great speed.

"Be careful, Mao!" C.C. called out. "If you don't defeat him, he will never let us be together."

"C.C. you witch-you traitorous whore," Lelouch raged dodging the thrust of Mao's chainsaw. "How dare you betray me—and for _him_?"

"I love Mao with all my heart!" C.C. shot back defiantly. "You and I were nothing but co-conspirators, after all, right from the start!"

Mao looked toward her head resting atop the plane's nose and smiled, his eyes watering. She was smiling back at him, blowing little kisses. "Thank you my love! I shall destroy all that stands between us. Lelouch! Do you hear me? Your end has come!"

"Like HELL IT HAS!" Lelouch shouted back as he vaulted atop the black horse and rode down from the carousel, raising Todoh's _katana _into the air, urging the beast forward across the grounds.

Mao's eyes narrowed beneath the visor, the sound of the horse's hooves across the floor pounding in his ears.

Like an atomic blast, they met in the middle, sword ringing against chainsaw in a shower of sparks. A gust of wind burst around them like an explosion, shaking the very foundation of the dense forests surrounding the enormous park. They continued bringing down their deadly weapons against each other in slashes and arcs, whirling them around, parrying, thrusting. The new sakuradite powered teeth of Mao's chainsaw was locked in combat with the ancient mystically folded blade of Todoh's _katana_. Lelouch quickly began panting from sheer exhaustion while Mao seemed able to take it all in stride, however, despite the weight of the hefty chainsaw.

Separated once more, they circled back around and went for each other once more.

"MAO!" Lelouch screamed.

"LELOUCH!" Mao raged right back.

C.C. closed her eyes, afraid to watch.

Pulling back his arm, Mao raised the chainsaw into the air in a jousting stance and then, at the last moment just as they met, pushed the chainsaw forward, plunging into Lelouch's chest, catching the billowing fabric in its deadly teeth, shredding it and then severing clean through the flesh in a large, jagged swathe.

Lelouch cried out in agony as Mao bore him off his horse down to the ground, jumping from his own to drive the saw deeper into Lelouch's heart. "NOOOOOOOO!" he screamed. "I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I don't-aaaaaah!"

Finally Mao wrenched the bloodied weapon out, casting it aside in disgust. The battle was over, leaving Lelouch crumpled at his feet in a pile of his own carnage. "It can't be! Impossible! How could you defeat me! How?" he demanded.

"Because , Lelouch, I fought with the power of love!" Mao declared fervently.

"Mao…you are the greater one… You are superior… You have defeated me…" Lelouch strained, finally succumbing to the ravage of death dealt by Mao's stroke.

Breathing heavily, Mao cast off his visor and placed his boot atop Lelouch's corpse. "I'VE WON!" he shouted, bringing his hands together repeatedly. "Ahahahahahahahahaha!"

Suddenly, however, Lelouch bolted upright once more and gripped Mao with a clammy hand, his eyes wide and vacant. "She will offer her hand but there will be no smoke!" he intoned hoarsely before collapsing to the ground dead. Mao shivered. Something about those words felt…eerie.

"Come, Mao. Let us fly away to Australia now!" C.C. called out, shaking away the thought. "Everything's alright now—we're safe."

But distracted by her voice, Mao didn't sense Diethard, who came rushing toward him from behind, brandishing a pistol.

"How dare you! How dare you strike Lord Zero! For you ZERO!" Diethard shouted.

"How pathetic," Mao mused as he brought his elbow behind him one swift motion. He felt something crack and then he brought his clenched fist up into Diethard's face, breaking his nose. Then, gripping his neck, he lifted him into the air from behind, and, with one arm, flung Diethard down to the ground on top of his head, shattering his spine instantly.

"Lord…Zero…will rise…again. Surely," he mumbled.

Looking around, he surveyed the corpses of the ruined Black Knights and their defeated leader. It was finally over—he had destroyed his enemy and reunited with his love.

"Coming, my love," Mao called, running toward her. Taking her head into his arms he stepped atop the wing and dove into the cockpit, closing it swiftly behind him.

"To Australia!" Mao shouted excitedly as he set the heading indicator to match the compass and adjusted the flaps. Placing his right hand on the throttle, his left hand on the steering yoke and his feet against the rudder petals, he pushed the throttle hard.

The plane drove forward, gaining speed. Carefully, he eased back on the yoke, lifting the nose wheel off the ground. The plane began to pull to the right, so he pressed his feet into the left rudder petal, stabilizing the angle. With that, the plane lifted into the air and left the ground entirely, leaving behind the theme park and soon all of Area 11. It was so much smoother this time, he thought.

Now cruising contentedly through the cool air, the wind blowing their hair wildly all around them, they were greeted by a breathtaking sunrise, the likes of which Mao had never seen—with red, pink, orange, yellow, silver and gold swirling together in a shimmering whirlpool of light. They flew off into that sunrise, eagerly awaiting all their new life had in store for them-the White Knight and his beloved Witchprincess!

Mao's eyes turned to the crusted blood covering most of his body. "When we get there, C.C. I'll need to find some water to bathe in." He checked the digital clock. 8:39 AM.

"When my body revives again, I'll want to bathe too. Let's take one together," C.C. replied suggestively.

Mao's eyes lit up. "A marvelous idea, beautiful!" he exclaimed, stroking her chin affectionately, feeling a certain excitement at the prospect. His sultry tone implied all too clear what he had in mind.

C.C. giggled and Mao had to laugh himself.

In what seemed no time at all, the pair could see the gorgeous shores of Australia coming into view down below, surrounded by their great reefs gently swaying in the crystal clear waters. This was going to be so much fun! Mao checked the clock again. 4:06 AM.

* * *

**Endsong: "As The World Falls Down" by David Bowie**


	21. Cheering Mao

**Author's Notes:**** Well, it seems everyone either suspected or figured out that the last chapter was a dream. Congratulations ! I was really looking forward to everyone's reaction. I'm actually really interested in learning at what point (be honest!) each of you, respectively, realized it was dream (or at least suspected it)? I threw in a few legitimate dream signs here and there without disturbing the flow too much just as a hint. I had received a few reviews suggesting an AU and I wanted to experiment how things would work if the point of divergence were Stage 15 without threatening other events I have planned for later. And, of course, once I decided it was a dream, I upped the crazy hamminess exponentially, and, more specifically, **_**Mao's **_**dream, I had to make Mao ridiculously superhuman and hyper-romantic. Doing what I've done also accomplishes several more subtle, psychological objectives, but those won't become apparent until after _this_ chapter. So, anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it—it was A LOT of fun to write, just seeing how ridiculously over the top I could make it as things progressed. The important thing to learn is that just because you **_**think **_**I'm going to write something a certain way (or not do something), doesn't mean I will, and I love to throw surprises. However, that **_**would**_** have been the end of my plot which is why, in my infinite wisdom as a fanfic author I had to deny the pleas of the children, haha ;-) Seriously though, I just thought it might be interesting to explore what people's reaction would be if Mao had gotten **_**everything**_** he wanted in Stage 15.**** Oh, and remember the "words of doom"-****they'll come into full expression later. Nice to add a bit of mystique to any work, you know?**

**Recommended Music:**** "Oharahetta!" by Kajiura Yuki from the **_**Mai-HIME Original Soundtrack I**_**, followed by "Food Is Still Hot" by Karen-O and the Kids from the **_**Where The Wild Things Are Soundtrack**_**, followed by "World Depression" (Track 18) by Nakagawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass R2 Soundtrack**_**, followed by "The Master" from the same, followed by "Flay no Shi" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack III**_

* * *

_**Cheering Mao**_

"_Mao? Mao? Are you awake?"_

Mao's eyes fluttered open. "C.C.?" he mumbled. It was dark still. But…that wasn't right. "What happened?" he muttered. In front of his face was an enormous wall of concrete—it seemed to stretch on forever. And there were what looked like structures jutting out from its face. But they were so long they shouldn't have been able to extend into the air like that without any support. They should break. He lifted his cheek up slightly. His face seemed to be resting on something smooth and a little bit cold. He ran a hand over it and felt the distinct impression of a horse. A_ horse_!

Mao bolted upright and realized that the huge wall wasn't a wall at all but pavement and the strange structures were theme park rides soaring into the sky. Suddenly, he felt the remote still in his hand and it all became so clear. Mao sighed sadly, tilting his head backwards to gaze into the starry sky, barely being overtaken by morning's light. "It was just a-"

Mao fell silent. He could hear footsteps approaching. There were no accompanying thoughts he could sense, only a steady breath. She stopped right beside the carousel, waiting for him. He could see a fiery glow suddenly appear on her forehead beneath the edges of a hat resting atop her emerald head.

Mao pushed the remote, suddenly illuminating the area with warm pink and purple lights as the melodic tune streamed gently through the area from the speakers onstage just below the video screen projecting a vibrant array of cheerful colors, serenading the spin of the carousel as C.C. came into view—the one he needed now more than ever. She was wearing a simple brown jacket and short white pleated skirt with dark violet leggings. Her eyes widened as the lights and music came on, staring up at an enormous Ferris wheel which began its turn.

"C.C.!" Mao called out enthusiastically as his horse came around, spreading an open arm out to her whilst he gripped the brass pole of the carousel horse with the other.

C.C. looked at the young man in acknowledgment, but her face remained expressionless.

"Why are you so quiet?" Mao asked, a slight concern appearing in his voice. "Your thoughts are the only ones I can't hear, after all. It's so wonderful," he gushed.

"You are still quite childish I see," C.C. replied, her golden eyes now dull and cold. It seemed her experiences apart from him had hardened her as well.

"I'm your knight. I even have the white horse," Mao explained, indicating the carousel. "And a knight has to rescue the princess!" Vaulting from the ride, he landed gracefully to his feet and strode towards her, laughing contentedly. "C.C., you're happy to see me, aren't you?" Mao asked, searching her face intently.

"Mao, we talked about this before," C.C. replied coldly. "To me, you are just…" she began, her voice faltering as Mao spoke up.

"—That was just a lie," he countered as he strode towards her, stopping a few paces away. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "You know it! The truth is that you love me, C.C. And this is how I know," he pressed, holding out the headphones she had given to him.

"_Thank you, Mao. Mao, Mao…_," her voice cooed soothingly on its loop.

C.C.'s body trembled as she listened to the familiar words. "Stop it!" she shouted, raising her voice above that of her digital counterpart. But it was too late—the memory was already resurfacing. And one look at C.C.'s face told Mao she felt it too.

_Storm clouds covered the skies above the dark city as a young boy clutched a woman on the side of the street, dozens of much nicer-clothed people ignoring the pair as they walked by._

"_SHUT UP!" Mao screamed as he buried his face in the woman's chest, desperately trying to silence the voices assailing his mind. He clutched his head painfully, his teeth grit, barely able to hold his small frame up. He struggled to comprehend why he couldn't shut them out anymore._

"_Don't listen to them," C.C. whispered, supporting him with her body as she held him to her, her forehead resting upon his trembling head. _"_Just listen to my voice. Concentrate."_

_Mao's eyes opened slowly. "Yes," he whispered, nodding weakly. He tried so hard, but the voices wouldn't stop. It was just too loud—he couldn't stand it. Every person walking by, everyone waiting in every car on the street, every child at every apartment window overhead, every couple in every bed, every drunk in every alley, every prostitute in every brothel, every thug, every cop. Incessantly. _

_C.C.'s face clouded over with pain as she watched him force his tears away, struggling to try and do as she had said—watched him stare up at her, his face set firmly, pretending like he couldn't hear just to please her. She felt a knot rise in her throat._

"_Since my thoughts are the only ones you can't hear and you can only be happy when we're alone together," C.C. began, an idea forming in her mind as she smiled down at him reassuringly, her voice warm and soothing to his ear. "We'll go far away from them all and I'll be with you __**forever**__."_

"_Yes," Mao managed, lifting up his eyes to meet hers, hope returning to his voice._

"_I'm __**always **__here," she explained, straining him closer. "So you won't have to worry."_

_And they did. They fled the city and journeyed deep into the remote countryside where even the peasants who tended the fields wouldn't find them. Out where the foliage still grew thick, the animals roamed freely, and the stars shone bright without any competition—and it was so beautifully silent. _

_And there was only him and her, sleeping together, eating together, laboring and playing together for years upon end. __**Forever**__, or so he thought._

C.C. bit deeply into her lip, closing her eyes as the memory faded.

"C.C., you're the only one for me. The only one I want!" Mao pleaded, stepping closer as he held the headphones loosely at his side . "I don't care about Lelouch!" He reached out his arms, a breath away from her shoulders, feeling like he might die if he didn't embrace her right then. His fingers tingled with anticipation. He wanted to hold her again so badly. "If you just come with me…"

"Stop it!" C.C. shouted again, wrenching a pistol out of her waist band, the motion causing her hat to fall to the ground, a gentle wind catching her long hair in its grasp.

Mao shuddered in horror, dropping the headphones as he stared at her in confusion, his heart aching. He shook his head back and forth sadly. This couldn't be happening!

"I should've done this a long time ago," C.C. remarked, gritting her teeth as she aimed the weapon for his heart, her finger hovering over the trigger.

Mao looked at her face in disbelief, the face he had memorized every detail of countless times. The face that he had kissed, the face he saw in his dreams, the face that had inspired countless paintings. How could she do this to _him_! Did she have any idea how much he had been through just to reach her again? To save her! This wasn't happening at all like he had imagined. His mind raced, wondering if her desire to die was so great that she would really kill him to obtain it. It seemed unthinkable. But, if she did, everything he had suffered for would be lost to him forever. And she would surely die.

C.C.'s hand shook and she swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she increased the pressure.

Mao carefully slid his hand into his coat, retrieving his own pistol. He knew what he had to do. It was just…

Suddenly, C.C.'s finger eased up on the trigger and she shook her head almost imperceptibly. She couldn't do this. Not like this.

Mao smiled softly, a feeling of relief washing over him as he took notice. He pulled the trigger of the weapon, aiming for her arm. A shot rang out into the still night and C.C.'s eyes snapped open, horrified for one sickening moment. She searched Mao's body frantically, looking for the wound. But…he didn't appear hurt and, suddenly, she fell to the ground clutching her muscle. She drew her hand away bloody, her gun having fallen away uselessly.

C.C. smiled softly despite it, realizing it wasn't her gun that had gone off after all.

"I knew you would never shoot me," Mao affirmed. "That's because you _really_ do love me, C.C.!" he explained, pointing a gloved finger to his heart and clapping his hands together happily as laughter issued from his throat.

"No! I was just using you—right from the start!" C.C. countered bitterly.

Mao scowled, his laughter ceasing. "How can you say that? You shouldn't tell lies like that—you _really _shouldn't. Lying is very, _very_ bad. Awful lies!" he scolded, looking down at her piteously as he absorbed her pathetic attempts to push him away. "Don't worry, _I_ understand," he added, trying to comfort her.

Raising the pistol once more, C.C. watched as he pointed the weapon at her, wondering what he would do next. Averting his eyes, almost apologetically, Mao fired off a few more rounds—directing one into her other arm and one into her leg. She grunted from the pain, falling down on her back, unable to move because of the stinging wounds.

"C.C., listen to this! I bought a house in Australia," Mao shared excitedly. "It's a beautiful, quiet, white house. But..."

C.C. stared up at him from her back expectantly, unable to do much else.

"…Well…we need to take a plane to reach Australia and there isn't much room," he explained nervously, walking a few paces away toward the stage. "C.C.," Mao added gently, as if he were concerned about insulting her. "Well…you're just too big to bring onto the plane."

C.C.'s eyes followed the young man as he went beside the soundstage and picked up the chainsaw he had left there. Pulling the choke, the device roared as Mao spun its blade, admiring the smooth sound and shiny edge. "I'll have to make you compact! It'll be quick if I use this," he called out, swinging the device across a nearby sign to test its edge. It clanged to the ground from a clean break in its post—the words "Please hold on to small children," adorning its rusting face.

C.C. stared at the device, at a loss for words, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cringe. "Is this your revenge?" she asked in disbelief. "Are you punishing me?"

"Of course not, no!" Mao replied, deeply hurt by the suggestion. "No, no, no, no, no!" he repeated for emphasis as he strode towards her. "I'm just so grateful to you," he replied, looking down at her, his bright eyes sparkling adoringly.

"_SO THIS IS THE PLACE YOU'VE CHOSEN!" _a booming voice echoed across the park. It seemed to be emanating from the speakers onstage. And it was a voice Mao recognized all too well. Unfortunately. He grit his teeth as he cast a fierce sideways glare toward the projection; unabashed adoration suddenly replaced with careful rage. The screen was displaying an image of Tokyo Tower.

"_AT A PLACE WITHOUT ANYONE ELSE'S THOUGHTS TO INTERFERE. IT'S SO EASY TO FIND YOU_," the voice of Lelouch boasted as his face appeared on the screen.

"Lelouch…" Mao muttered angrily.

C.C. turned her head to look as well.

"_THE MAXIMUM EFFECTIVE RADIUS OF YOUR GEASS IS 500 METERS,_" Lelouch continued. "_IT CAN'T REACH THIS PLACE, TOKYO TOWER_."

Mao couldn't help but laugh. "Indeed, indeed," he concurred. "Even so, what do you intend to do from all the way over there?" he demanded. "Perhaps you intend to remotely control some battery-operated toys here to attack me? Or perhaps use that sharp tongue of yours to convince me to submit?"

Lelouch blinked, followed by a long pause. Mao looked at the image suspiciously. "Why are you being so quiet now?" he asked. "I'll die before I'll let you have C.C.—"

"_—MAO, YOU DON'T THINK 'C.C.' IS HER REAL NAME DO YOU?_" Lelouch suddenly interrupted.

Mao froze, his eyes widening as he turned his gaze back toward C.C., his mouth slightly agape.

"_**I** KNOW HER REAL NAME_," Lelouch declared proudly.

C.C. turned away. Was that embarrassment?

"You…you told _him_, C.C.?" Mao asked in disbelief, his voice suddenly frail and frantic. "How could you tell it to a person like _him_? It was a secret."

"YOU UNDERSTAND, DON'T YOU?" Lelouch continued to taunt. "C.C. BELONGS TO ME NOW, MAO!" he declared imperiously.

C.C. scowled blandly, watching the ridiculous display. But Mao was falling for Lelouch's ruse completely.

"NO!" Mao shouted angrily, climbing atop the stage. "SHE DOESN'T! SHE DOESN'T! SHE DOESN'T! **SHE DOESN'T**!" he repeated, shaking his clenched fist at the image. "C.C. and I were together long before you found her!"

"I HAVE CONQUERED _ALL _OF C.C.," Lelouch countered suggestively, licking his lips for effect. "EVEN THE PARTS YOU KNOW NOTHING OF."

Mao glared at the image, his face contorting into a snarl. The claim was impossible, of course, Mao realized. But his tone was so infuriating.

"_ALL _OF HER…" Lelouch repeated again. Slowly this time.

How dare he disrespect C.C.! "L-e-l-o-u-c-h…" he seethed, lifting the chainsaw into the air and spinning the blade menacingly. "Come out and face me!" he raged as he rushed toward the projector, bringing the saw down across the screen in a deadly slash.

A deep cut tore across the image, breaking it apart into several flickering glitched pieces. "Lelouch, come here! " Mao again demanded as he continued to swing the chainsaw across the screen in long strikes, a shower of electric sparks bursting into the air. "Let me into your mind, you liar!"

Smoking panels from the enormous device came crashing down to the stage in a mess of broken glass and electricity.

"MAO, YOU HAVE LOST," Lelouch's voice declared proudly, the sound breaking up as the signal failed.

"What are you saying?" Mao demanded, his chest heaving from from the exertion as he finally relaxed the chainsaw. A cloud of smoke has quickly risen up up from the ruined stage, blowing out over the grounds. "It doesn't matter. As long as C.C. and I—"

_There he is!_

"_Secure the perimeter…"_

_He's got a weapon!_

"_Come on!"_

_Loaded and ready…_

_Damn, this boot_

_Look at him-so pathetic.  
_

_At this hour?_

"_Standard formation…"_

_Shields, ready_

_He has no idea what I have planned for him…_

"_Safety off."_

_There he is!_

_Surround the stage!  
_

Mao whirled around, chainsaw raised. His mind began to race as he suddenly heard a myriad of thoughts echoing in the formerly empty park. "Lelouch? But the distance…and…_so many_," he muttered nervously, staring out over the grounds in confusion, wincing at the noise.

"Its over!" a voice shouted as leather jackboots pounded across the park, belonging to thirty or so police officers who rushed to the stage bearing riot shields. They were even joined by two white Knightmare Frames pointing their massive rifles in his direction as they took up position on either side of the rise.

"All those voices... It can't be! I was so focused on-" Mao stammered.

A spotlight bore down upon him from above, blinding him as he tried to discern its source. He whirled around and lifted a hand to shield his eyes, hoping to get a clear view. A helicopter hovered overhead, a sniper in position sprawled out the open bay door.

_No sudden moves..._

"_PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON AND SURRENDER! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!" _a voice, apparently the commander, barked through a loud speaker._  
_

The officers pitched directly in front of the stage, raising their shields as they all drew pistols simultaneously, their faces shielded beneath their helmets.

"The police?" Mao muttered. "Who contacted them?" But he quickly realized the only possible culprit.

"_REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE! DROP YOUR WEAPON AND RAISE YOUR HANDS!" _the voice repeated sternly.

C.C. sat up as a lone officer walked to her and picked up the pistol lying on the ground beside her. Wrenching her up into the air, he began carrying her away slowly. It was Lelouch!

"Lelouch? Why are you here?" C.C. demanded.

But Lelouch merely scowled at her contemptuously.

_Stupid, willful woman. Maybe I should've let her have a bit of that chainsaw first. Teach her not to cross me again. I can't believe she pretended like she was betraying me for Mao when all along she was following my original plan. One simple task—kill Mao—and she couldn't even take care of it. Women can be so useless… Still, she performed well as bait. If she hadn't been here to distract him, things could've turned out much differently… Now Nunnally's safety will be assured._

"Impossible!" Mao shouted. "Weren't you at the tower just now?"

_Are you an idiot? All of that was just a recording, _Lelouch's thoughts echoed in Mao's mind as he turned to smirk at him.

"But…you talked to me!" Mao countered.

_The way you think is too simplistic. Your ability to read minds is such a waste._

"You predicted how I would respond?" Mao asked in disbelief. "Don't fuck with me, insolent brat!" he spat contemptuously, shaking his head. "If the police take me in, I'll be released in no time at all!"

_What is he saying?_

_Is he on something?_

_Who's he talking to?_

_He's crazy!_

_There's something wrong with him._

_Talking to himself like that…_

_Must be a Refrain addict…_

_What the hell?_

_He is **seriously** disturbing my calm...  
_

"Shut up!" Mao shouted out to the crowd, clutching his head painfully. "Stop saying those things about me!"

A smug grin spread across Lelouch's face as he watched him with silent satisfaction.

_C.C. told me you can't turn off your Geass. But the effective range depends on how hard you concentrate._

"You made use of the monitor to distract me," Mao muttered, thinking quickly. Anything to keep the conversation going. He could see where this was headed. And if he didn't think of something fast, it wouldn't be pretty.

_Consider it revenge for using Shirley to try and kill me the other day. Of course, since you know my real thoughts, it makes more sense to simply understand that your mere existence is a threat to my designs. I can't afford to let pieces like that remain in play for long you see…_

"Even so, I still have a way to defeat you," Mao warned. "I'll destroy you!"

_The moment you try is the moment you die_

Apparently satisfied, Lelouch began his retreat, pulling C.C. away with him.

C.C. looked up at Lelouch's smirk and back at the stance of the officers with their weapons drawn. Her eyes widened as realization dawned in her face, a sickening fear coming over her. It was all so clear. "Lelouch, please wait," she pleaded suddenly, her voice urgent. "If you just let me-I can to talk to him… _Please_."

_You're obsession with C.C. was the perfect distraction. I'm taking her from you forever, Mao. _

Mao stared past the crouched officers toward C.C.'s white face as it was dragged away, realizing it too. He suddenly felt afraid, desperate. Taking a quick breath, he closed his eyes and when they reopened, they had the distinct appearance of blood—the Geass sigil within was burning so brightly, coloring the tears beginning to form. "You think _I'll _die?" Mao shouted defiantly. "Police, listen carefully to this!" he pressed, pointing his arm toward Lelouch's fleeing form. "That man over there is the terrorist—"

But it was too late. "FIRE!" the commander barked as the officers emptied their magazines into Mao's stunned form, the din of gunfire ringing out over the park.

Mao grunted as he felt the hot metal shred into his body, the barrage knocking him around the stage, eruptions of blood bursting through his back and splattering against the wrecked screen at an agonizing pace. His eyes fell across the park in a long, sweeping gaze as time seemed to slow. Mao could see the vacant stare of the police commander, his glassy eyes perfectly complimenting his mechanical posture. He could see the unabashed smirk on Lelouch's face as he regarded his execution with relish. He could see the rays of the dawn streaking through the trees surrounding the park. Would he ever see those rays again? But most of all he could see C.C.'s face as she craned her neck toward him. Were those tears in her eyes? Finally, he fell backward onto the stage, his legs giving out on him. He stared up at the last vestiges of the twilight sky, flat on his back, his arms extended out from his sides as a lukewarm river of blood flowed down the rim of the stage and out into the grounds below, in between the boots of the officers. He fought to try and lift his neck, desperate to regain look his beloved in the eye one last time. Why? Why wouldn't she save him? Why couldn't he save her?

"MAO!" C.C. screamed, straining her neck toward him, her eyes wide with horror.

_I've won, Mao. Now you know the punishment reserved for those who challenge me. If only you would have known of the others who tried to oppose me—of the fates they met, you might have been wiser in your choice of enemies. This world belongs to Zero and I am its future!_

"…Zer…o," Mao breathed, his head collapsing to the floor as he was engulfed by smoke. His lungs began to tighten and each breath felt like a knife twisting in his heaving chest. Blood now soaked his clothes and he felt his vision blur. There was too much pain. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. Darkness overtook him.

_Nothing_ was an odd sensation.

* * *

**Endsong: "It's Only the Fairytale" by Alissa Sears (Miyamura Yuuko)**


	22. Waking Mao: The Point of No Return

**Author's Notes:****Mao certainly did not the best of upbringings at all, but I have to admit I'm envious of the fact that he had such a beautiful person who was there for him for so long and who he could pour out all his affections on. But the whole reason Mao is in this mess is because he refused to take C.C.'s Code in Chapter 1. Taking her Code=dead C.C. And while I'm sure Mao would probably put her body in a glass coffin and snuggle with her corpse every night if he had to, it kind of (understatement!) defeats the purpose of saving her life so he can be with her, you know? And another thing. ****Don't mistake me. While I **_**do**_** think that in the series, Lelouch was arrogant, manipulative, cruel and had a HUGE double-standard (weren't those things pretty much explicitly conveyed in the series though, at least by the middle of R2?), and while I do agree that Mao's motive behind his extreme actions was a noble one (which isn't confirmed all the way _till_ R2), I am not falling into such a stereotypical paradigm as Lelouch=bad, Mao=good. Not only is that a gross oversimplification, but it makes Lelouch's on-screen virtuous actions of no consequence and ignores Mao's almost neurotic (at times) cruelty. Keep in mind, Lelouch believes that his actions are all for Nunnally's sake, while Mao is doing everything for C.C. They are very similar individuals, albeit their style and strengths are of a complementary difference. Keep in mind that in the anime we only sometimes get to hear what Lelouch is actually thinking about a situation. So I tried to speculate based on evaluating his character, tactics and actions. We already know that Lelouch takes pleasure in gloating over his defeated enemies and we know that he is a tactical genius and skilled manipulator. In the end, I don't feel my portrayal is too much of a stretch therefore. But, of course, in Mao's case, that is the difficulty in hearing things from the perspective of a somewhat unreliable narrator. Although he can read minds and is always honest in his own childish way (though he grossly accentuates the negative), so…he probably isn't too far off in his character judgments to be honest.**

**Recommended Music: "****Itsuwari no Yuujou****" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack III**_**, followed by "Wazukana Fuan" by the same from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack I, **_**followed by "Makafushigi" by Yuki Kajiura from the **_**Mai-HIME Original Soundtrack I**_**, followed by "Violator" by Nobuo Uematsu from the **_**Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Sameru Kokoro" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack IV, **_**followed by (as soon as Mao enters his apartment) "Kodoku" by Yoshihisa Hirano and Taniuchi Hideki from the **_**DEATH NOTE Original Soundtrack**_**, and finishing with "Tachiagare! Okori Yo" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack IV **_

* * *

_**Waking Mao**_

**(Passing the Point of No Return)**

Mao's eyes slowly opened and then quickly blurred, met by blinding white light. For a moment he wondered if this was the afterlife, but gradually a hanging fixture came into focus. He swept the room from side to side in long, weary sweeps, further details of his new surroundings emerging into view. It was another hospital, he realized. He laid his head back down into the fabric, his latest failure weighing heavily on his mind. Shaken but alive.

_Look at the chart you idiot! "73.5…"_

_Steady now. Steady…_

"_Is mommy gonna be okay?"_

_Wait a minute, I left this locked so who…? Has someone been stealing medication?_

_What do I tell him when he looks at me like that? He's so young… "Yes, mommy's gonna be…just fine."_

_Poor man... It's a miracle he survived. _

_These bunch of half-wits… They barely meet certification standards, much less work at a prestigious medical center like this._

_Daddy doesn't look sure at all…_

_Someone really has to do something about these trigger-happy cops. Bunch of liars. _

_The doctor said his pulse was stable... But look at the brain activity... I've never seen anything like it. What in the world is going on up there?  
_

A small whimper escaped his throat as he contemplated the agony his mind would be in as soon as his focus waned, but, to his surprise, he turned to the right and saw his headphones and player laying upon a shiny metal tray, alongside his visor, gloves and ring of keys. Somewhere in the background he could hear the faint sound of a radio streaming a somber song into the air. For a moment, he listened to the minimal instrumentation and breathy vocals.

_I made a mistake that I never forgot  
Tied knots in the laces of  
My worried shoes  
Every step that I take is another mistake  
I march further and further away  
In my worried shoes_

Stretching out his bandaged arm, Mao retrieved the worn device, sliding the headphones over his grateful ears and pressing in the button on the device.

"_Don't worry Mao… I'll always love you. No matter what."_

His body shook as tears fell down his cheeks. He had failed again—failed to rescue C.C., failed to defeat Lelouch. He had lost everything. He couldn't stand it anymore.

A nurse carefully opened the door and strode over to the side of his bed. Shoulder length brown hair framed a young face with mossy hazel eyes. A prominent silver chain hung down her neck, affixed to a silver cross. _Thank goodness he's awake! _"Sir, are…are you alright?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. _Poor man… Such amazing eyes though…I've never seen ones like that!_ Her nametag read simply, 'Joy.'

Mao sighed, wiping the salty trail from his cheeks. "What happened?" he managed hoarsely.

_Oh dear... What do I even tell him?_

"Well…uh," the woman struggled to find the words. "The police appear to have made a mistake. There aren't many details but it appears that they…mistook you for a criminal and, well, they shot you. **A lot**. But…none of the dozens of officers involved can remember anything about it."

_This is ridiculous! I can't believe I have to tell a patient bullshit like that._

"Don't you find it strange that so many officers would suffer selective memory loss at the same time?" Mao pressed in disgust.

"Y-Yes," Joy stammered. "Their explanation is ridiculous. But there's nothing we can do to them. They put you in our care and paid your treatment expenses. I think they're too embarrassed. We're the finest Britannian hospital in Area 11. But…your condition just doesn't make any sense."

_It's amazing they even admitted to making a mistake instead of trumping up some phony charge…_

"Really?" Mao asked absently, sitting up.

"Careful there," she warned.

"It's alright. I'm not in any pain," he assured her.

"Well, normally gunshot victims suffer all kinds of injuries—bullets end up ricocheting inside the body, usually destroying vital organs far removed from the original point of entry," the nurse explained. "But all your wounds somehow had clean entry _and_ exit points. They caused no damage to internal organs _or _the skeletal structure along the way. It's just…those kind of shots would require extreme precision from what appears to have been a haphazard firing squad. I wouldn't have thought it possible if I hadn't examined you myself. Four years I've been studying to become a genuine doctor and I've never even heard of anything like this."

_Feels more like eight though already… God, will I ever finish?_

"Amateur," Mao muttered, his first smile since he had woken up.

"Pardon me?" Joy asked, confused.

But Mao simply shook his head.

_"Remember Wood.** I** ask the questions, alright? You just stand there and...look mean."_

Turning toward the door, Mao braced himself. As predicted, the door burst open as two burly men strode in to join them. They were wearing police uniforms; body armor with leather jackboots. Their eyes were concealed beneath dark shades and they carried semiautomatic handguns holstered at their sides.

The nurse shrieked in surprise as she whirled around. "Who the-!"

_Is he eyeing my gun? Go ahead, I dare you—make something happen. It'd make my problem go away…_

"Hey, what do you think you're doing!" Joy protested, positioning herself between the officers and Mao.

Mao looked at her in surprise, stunned that she was taking such a risk to protect him.

"Miss, stand aside," one warned coolly, his voice just firm enough to get the message across that he was not to be defied. The other, larger one said nothing; standing still as a statue, and his chiseled face even reminded Mao of stone.

_Oh my… He gives me the creeps! Why does he just stand there like that?_

"I'm glad you're awake, because I need some answers _real _fast. Firstly, who the hell are you?" the officer demanded, turning towards Mao and crossing his arms.

"And you would be?" Mao asked, testing his reaction.

The man's brow furrowed. "_I'll _ask the questions around here," he retorted curtly.

"My name is Mao. I immigrated here from the Chinese Federation," Mao replied mechanically, focusing his attention on the irate man.

"Where's your identification then?" the officer countered guardedly.

"The rest of my things appear to have been lost in the _incident_," Mao covered, narrowing his eyes.

_Rrrah! This is getting us nowhere…_

"Why were you at Clovisland that morning? It was closed—that was clearly posted. What were you doing trespassing there?" he pressed, his outburst driven by his thinning patience. He was desperate to come up with a satisfactory explanation. Something that made some kind of sense. Mao didn't blame him-Geass was a nightmare for the mundane world to sort out.

"I was supposed to meet a friend there, but…Zero attacked me," Mao ventured, eyeing his interrogators carefully, choosing his words even more so. "I know it was closed but I just thought it looked so…nice there. Peaceful, I mean."

_Zero? Zero can't have been there! What would he be doing at Clovisland anyway? No, wait…I can't say that for sure can I? And if this guy were making it up, surely he would choose something more believable, right? Damn this, I still can't remember anything_

"Why can't I remember anything!" the officer shouted angrily. "Why were you shot? We found an airplane with a stash of assault weapons inside along with hundreds of thousands of dollars in Chinese currency and some coordinate tables and maps of Australia of all places. Know anything about that?"

_What's he hiding?_

"Zero did _something_… I got caught by your fire—maybe you were trying to shoot him—but whatever he did—it must've made you forget about him while he made his escape. Some kind of…'hypnosis'," Mao related, deflecting their interest away from the anomalous airplane.

"That is not possible! Why would Zero even be there? What was he supposedly doing there?" he retorted brusquely.

"But officer, a man _as smart as you_ has already realized that it's impossible for an entire squad to suffer from the same selective memory loss under any kind of 'natural' circumstances," Mao said soothingly, massaging his pride and redirecting his audacity. "A man _as smart as you_ _is right_ to be suspicious. That's why _I_ can _understand_ _you_r agitation," he continued, peppering his sentences with carefully chosen words to diffuse the tension in the room, building a bond in the officer's mind between himself and Mao.

The man blinked, finding himself entranced by Mao's gentle demeanor and smooth voice. _He's right… But still…_

"But how? How could he do something like that?" the officer struggled to comprehend. He was already succumbing. Next his mind would struggle to find a way to make Mao's words seem plausible, in order to, on a subconscious level, validate his earlier praise.

_Wait… Zero said he killed Prince Clovis. He was killed while still in his military convoy. No…could it be? Hypnotism? Gimme a break! But…I really can't remember_

Mao fell silent, unable to say anymore without telling a lie. And that was something he just wouldn't do.

_Well, answer me dammit! _The officers stared at Mao for several moments before the irate one rubbed his face wearily and shook his head in frustration.

"What the hell are we gonna tell the commander?" the man whispered furtively to his companion. "An entire squad, Wood! An entire freaking squad…"

_Maybe he just…won't talk about it? It would make it go away. But how can we be certain he won't?_

"Look, sir," Mao ventured, his tone respectful and reassuring. Now he needed to indirectly request a favor in order to justify the officer's next course of action. "I'm not badly hurt. And I'm sure the police we're just doing their job. I understand that sacrifices must be made when dealing with terrorists, in order to ensure the safety of all. You're heroes in my estimation, standing firm against Zero like that. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, I'm sorry."

The man, frustrated as he was, softened instantly, his fierce expression melting away as he listened to Mao's powerful voice. The nurse looked back and forth between the officers and her patient, a puzzled expression contorting her face.

_What is he saying? They're not heroes! They shot an innocent man and now they're trying to cover it up!_

"Well…uh, thank you," the officer replied after an awkward silence. "Look, forget it… We've paid for your recovery. We'll look the other way on the trespassing charge, just…don't talk about this, alright?" he ordered gently. "I wish we had more like you—we might actually get somewhere with these damn terrorists. The rest of these dumbasses just don't seem to take this stuff seriously. Good luck on your recovery. Come on, Wood."

_Let's go gun down some Refrain addicts tonight… Yeah, target practice…that'll put all this stress behind us._

Mao nodded carefully as he watched them turn on their heels and make their exit, marching out of the room in single file. The sound of their jackboots stomping across the tile could be heard echoing through the halls for quite a while after their departure.

"I'm so sorry about that… Uh, what are you listening to?" Joy inquired, eager to change the subject.

"Huh? Oh, it's…something to help with these headaches I get. Someone I…love made it for me," Mao explained with some difficulty.

"That was very kind of them. Make sure you give them something in return—so they know how much they mean to you," Joy replied with a smile.

Mao nodded half-heartedly but suddenly his eyes widened. "The ring!" he muttered, looking around frantically.

"What?" the nurse asked in confusion.

"Is this all of my things?" Mao asked urgently.

"Yes, it's all that was recovered," Joy replied. "Are you missing something?"

Mao's covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath. There was a long pause. "Am I free to go now?" he asked finally. His voice sounded weak.

_Oh dear, what's wrong with him? It seems like he's lost something very dear…_

"Well…we had to bandage you up down most of your body. You might want to wait a few weeks so we can remove them after the wounds have fully healed," Joy cautioned.

"No. I need to leave now," Mao replied firmly as he swung his legs down to the floor and stood up. The floor felt cold against the bare white flesh of his feet. He looked down at his gown, however, and froze.

"Your clothes had to be destroyed. They were pretty ripped up from the incident," the nurse explained, noting his confusion.

_And to destroy the evidence_

"I brought you a change of clothes though," she added as cheerfully as she could, indicating a folded pile in a nearby chair. "They're pretty loose but…you're so tall, I figured they'd fit you. I'll be waiting right outside if you need anything."

Mao nodded his appreciation as he watched her go. He quickly removed the gown and dressed, pulling a long button-down lavender shirt over his chest and a pair of only slightly darker hued trousers. Completing the rummaged ensemble was a wrinkled loose white coat. Apparently she had noted his affinity for them. Walking over to the sink, he examined his appearance in the mirror. Grotesque bandages ran down the length of his body from his neck to his legs. Picking up a faded denim hat, he pressed it atop his head, turning it backwards and pulling his platinum bangs out the front. Mao frowned at his reflection. "Well…I started out with nothing," he mused as he dipped his finger in the soap and scrawled the words, 'Thank you' on the mirror.

Donning his gloves, he pocketed the keys and player and, carefully turning the silver knob at the door, slid out into the tiled hallway. He swept his eyes across the room, noting the positions of the doctors and aides as he pressed the visor over them. His nurse had been called away to another room. He started walking, his Geass alert for suspicious thoughts.

_Can't wait till my day off…_

_What kind of guy calls about a broken respirator? We're not a repair shop for god's sake!_

"_How may I direct you're call?" You worthless piece of crap!_

_Such a rip off!_

_But he can't be dead…_

_Hello nurse!_

_This food is good, surprising for a hospital. But I guess it oughta be with how expensive this place is._

_Is he really suggesting a guided cell growth procedure at this point? "We're way past that!"_

_"__GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!"_

In several strides, Mao had made it to the elevator, pressing in the number for the ground floor. As soon as the metal doors parted, Mao slid through. He watched the numbers descend as the compartment fell through the air.

_Damn machine at my money…_

_So much pain…_

_Trust me I'm a doctor, hehehe… She's so tight down there, man now I'm getting hard_

_Why the hell are we on the bottom of the list? How does some fat slob get ahead of us? Because he's rich, that's why!_

_Dirty old man… How dare he!_

_Is the doctor really supposed to touch me there for that long?_

A chime rang out as the doors opened onto the busy floor and, after a short walk, he was back out onto the streets, drawing clear breath into his lungs. A simple gust of wind seemed to blow right threw him though, chilling him, and his legs began to feel numb after only a few steps. His body was still very weak it seemed.

He set out, in what direction he didn't really care, but soon, however, he felt too exhausted to continue walking so he decided to board the nearest monorail. He stumbled onto the line, gratefully taking an open seat near the window.

_What in the world is he wearing?_

_Ever since Prince Clovis' death, it seems monorail maintenance has been ignored_

_We're not even there yet and I'm still not sure what to say… I just don't want to sound awkward or anything. Oh, why is this so hard?_

_I could really go for a salad right now-Grapes, apples, celery, walnuts…in a mayonnaise sauce. Yeah, that sounds good!_

_Hmm...I can see all the way down her blouse standing over her like this_

_It's really a pain to have to travel this far to see them…_

"_Oh, I know…"_

"Lelouch's Geass certainly caused some interesting effects," Mao mused during the ride. "He must've only commanded them to 'shoot' rather than 'kill'. Forced to obey him absolutely, the officers were only able to shoot places that wouldn't kill me and in such a way that I would survive. What an amateur…"

When he finally reached his suite, Mao stumbled in through the door, half expecting the Black Knights to have raided the place, serenaded by a chorus of laughter from the dealers and hookers mocking his new appearance.

_What a __**freak**__!_

_Haha, did he get __**in a fight**__ with a cat mugger?_

_Bet he wants some Refrain __**now**__…_

_Had a bit of __**bad luck**__, have we?_

_My neck is still sore from __**that bitch**_

They began whooping and hollering at him, jeering each other obnoxiously as they erupted into a chorus of sarcastic applause. Despite its familiarity, it had a surprising sting.

Mao grit his teeth as he slammed the door shut. Falling to his knees, he pitched forward. His visor fell to the side as he rolled onto his back, staring up at the cracking ceiling.

"_See Mao, that's the way-You can do it!"_

"No, C.C.," Mao muttered hopelessly. "I _can't _do this anymore. I just can't take it. I couldn't save you. And now…I've lost everything." Crawling over to the closet, he pushed the door away and fumbled for the pistol lying inside. His last. He turned it over in his hand several times, examining its dull sheen.

Time seemed to slow as Mao pointed the barrel at himself. "But where should I shoot—my heart, where it's broken? Or my head, where the voices are?" he mused. He tried both positions several times. "This is where it hurts the most," he muttered finally, pressing the barrel firmly against his heart.

_=[No, Mao… Don't do it. Come find me and reclaim your place. Forget all of this.]=  
_

Mao froze, staring at the weapon in disbelief as his eyes went wide. "What the…who is _that_?" he asked, bewildered and disturbed. All Mao could think about was how quick it would be, how quiet it would be afterward.

How badly he wanted to embrace oblivious then, to let the silence comfort him as no one else would_. _But his hand began to shake as thoughts of C.C. flashed through his mind just behind his eyes, a speeding hurl of vivid images and sounds, impressions and feelings, culminating in a distant memory.

"_Boy, what are you doing there?" a woman called out._

_Mao turned toward her in surprise, trying to quickly brush away his tears. No one ever paid much attention to him. _

"_Why are you crying?" the woman pressed._

_Mao scowled. "Because everybody hates me! And I hate everybody! I hate this world! I hate it! I hate it! __**I hate it!**__ And I hate **you**!" he shouted at her angrily, his young eyes contorted into a fierce glare. _

_But, to his surprise, she didn't turn away as he had expected she would. She walked closer, her face emerging out of the shadows for the first time. It was a young face, beautiful even. Perfect like a sculpture. But it was her eyes that surprised him. They reminded him of the old people he encountered from time to time and he perceived untold years of experience concealed behind those golden irises._

"_Why do you hate so much?" the woman asked suddenly, leaning against the dirty wall beside him._

_Mao was taken aback. "They all say I'm dumb and ugly. They say I'm worthless and should just die!" he retorted, choking the words out past fresh hot tears._

"_But is that really how it is? Are you really those things?" the strange woman quipped back. "Are you truly stupid? Do you think that you're ugly? Do you want to die?"_

_Mao's eyes widened as thoughts he had never considered began to take form in his young mind. _

"_No…I'm not," Mao managed, realization dawning on his face._

"_That's right—you're all alone out here, aren't you? But yet you're still alive. Others would have perished in the attempt long before. Your wits must be excellent. And I don't find you ugly either," she added. "Your eyes, your hair—they're quite beautiful. I've not seen anyone in China who looks like you."_

_Mao's eyes widened, looking down at the grime and filth covering his body and feeling slightly ashamed suddenly._

"_And you seem to be desperately clinging to life," the woman continued. "Why is that?"_

_Mao swallowed weakly, shaking his head. "Dying would worse," he muttered. "Surely dying would be worse."_

_The woman smiled for the first time since she had spoken to him. It was something Mao hadn't seen in a long time out here on the unforgiving streets._

"_Just who are you?" Mao demanded._

_The woman looked down for a moment before she replied. "You can call me, C.C.."_

"_That's a strange name," the boy quipped. "I'm Mao…I think."_

_C.C.'s eyes fell on the pair of gold earrings glinting in his small ears. "Strange to find an urchin with such valuable jewelry," she remarked._

_Mao nodded. "I wasn't born an urchin," he scowled, looking away._

_The woman flashed a knowing smile, as if she was enjoying a personal triumph, and knelt down to his level, looking directly into his eyes. Her voice was low and soft as she spoke. "I can give you a special power that would allow you to rise above all of this; the power of __**kings**__," she whispered, studying his face carefully. "In return, all I ask is that someday you grant just one wish of mine."_

"_What is this wish?" Mao asked carefully._

"_It is my heart's desire," the woman replied after a moment."But I can't explain it just yet."_

_Suddenly her hand clutched tightly at Mao's wrist and his surroundings faded away, replaced by a surreal plane filled with whirling images and sensations, as if time and space had been subsumed by an ultimate reality._

_The woman who called herself C.C. stood before him in that place holding out her hand, beckoning to him. "Do you accept this contract?" she intoned._

Mao shook the memory away, increasing pressure on the trigger. But his finger wouldn't budge any further and he began to panic. "I can't even do this either!" he remarked bitterly through clenched teeth, shaking his head in frustration. "Not like this."

Suddenly the cruel face of Lelouch appeared in his mind, a smug grin bearing down upon Mao, reveling in his torment. Mao's eyes narrowed as a snarl crossed his face. "It's all _his_ fault!" Mao spat. "That damn brat! He stole C.C. and tried to kill me. He humiliated me! He should be the one receiving this bullet."

His rage grew with each passing moment and slowly he released his grip on the trigger. "But I can still break him… I can make him beg me for death, just as I have all the others!" Mao seethed. "I'll use his sister, Nunnally. He tried to kill me and take away my love. And now he's walking the very path that will lead to her death. I'll repay him in kind. I'll have my revenge. This time I won't hold back."

Standing to his feet, his hatred renewing his strength, he slid the weapon down past his navel and racked his brains to remember what Lelouch's next plans were. "Let's see…compartmentalize the new recruits to the Black Knights and organize an appropriate distribution of labor…he had a huge meeting planned out for that too... What else? Arrange a meeting with the Chinese Federation!" Mao muttered. "He'll use C.C. to avoid any risk to himself. Which means…I know where they'll be."

Putting his hand to his chin, he stared off into space and began contemplating what his course of action should be, absently pacing about the small apartment. Lelouch was the type of opponent who required not only extreme caution due to his volatile pride and capacity for ruthless reprisal, which could be thwarted by including something to force him to restrict himself, but also distraction of an almost theatrical magnitude in order to execute a sufficiently subtle attack. "He's weak to spontaneity though—he likes to plan ahead and choose his moves accordingly, but performs considerably less smoothly when circumstances suddenly change," Mao mused dryly. "Even disastrously," he added as a soft smirk returned to his pale features.

Discarding his wrinkled white overcoat, he made his way to a series of cabinets sequestered near the floor of the kitchen and sank to his knees to brave a look inside. A musty, dank smell met his senses, as he strained to look through the dim surroundings for something of use. Several rusting aluminum cans were stacked up along the wall, the receptacles for aging chemicals of dubious integrity no doubt. Drawing a few out, he examined their faded labels. One was curiously marked 'stump remover'. "Strange," Mao muttered. "Why would something like that be here in the Settlement?" Turning it over, he perused the list of ingredients, utilizing information he had learned from his time with the Directorate, and his eyes lit up. Closing the doors, he rose to his feet and drew out a bag of granulated sugar from the pantry above. Setting the container of stump remover down on the counter, he unscrewed the lid and checked its contents. It appeared to have preserved well enough.

Taking up a deep steel cooking pan, Mao set it upon the oven and dumped in about four parts sugar to six parts of the stump remover, soon filing the entire pan. He carefully blended the two substances and then tuned the oven to a very low flame. With fascination he watched as the heat began to caramelize the sugar, turning the substance a sickly yellow. After that, it was only a matter of time before the mixture blended together into a gelatinous mass.

Switching off the oven, Mao used his gloved hands to carefully remove the pan and set it aside, allowing the concoction to cool. Taking out a dull knife from the drawer, he began shaping the mass into a more agreeable shape—cutting away the edges and firming up the angles.

"Well that didn't take long," Mao muttered. "It'll of course need a few more components though for this to work… There's bound to be some Britannian soldiers nearby, right?"

Leaving the mass behind to cool inside the cabinet, Mao retrieved his coat and headed out the door. "But there's someone I have to meet first," he grunted as he descended the metal staircase back to the street, willing his pained legs into a run. "And I don't want to be late, now do I?"

* * *

**Endsong: "Author Unknown" by Jack Off Jill**

**Author's Note: Concerning Mao's survival, I too agree that it was extremely unlikely by any realistic medical standards (although I was glad nonetheless). However, I don't think the key to Mao's survival rests with Britannian healthcare but with the nature of Lelouch's Geass, which was actually mentioned briefly in the show. As I've noted, it's not that Mao somehow recovered, it's that the poorly phrased order Lelouch gave made it **_**impossible **_**for Mao to die! So in a sense, Lelouch unwittingly saved Mao's life this time. Now of course that still doesn't cover the fact that Mao's nervous system could be damaged, rendering his body paralyzed (albeit alive) or he could've been blinded or maimed and so on, so that's where Britannian medical science and a bit of luck come into play in my opinion.**


	23. Clinging Mao

**Author's Note: Good news, someone created a page for this story on the FanFiction Wiki! Thank you, whoever you are! I appreciate the exposure. Anyways, I think that the Code issue is debatable. It could be argued that without her Code, C.C.'s 700+ year old cells would spontaneously break down as they would suddenly meet with that many years of decay, but maybe not. Regardless, if Mao had taken her Code, given C.C.'s death wish, it's probable she would just commit suicide and then he'd have the same problem. As for the albino thing, **_**i**_**n the anime world of **_**Code Geass**_**, people have orange or green hair and it seems normal. The thing about Mao's eyes that catches people off guard is the flaming phoenix inside (it would seem a little odd, right?). That's not to say he's not an albino, but it just isn't played up **_**at all **_**in the show, so I didn't really either (apart from a few references to sun screen early on). As for the salad, that particular recipe is called a "Waldorf Salad" and you would have to see the old British comedy sitcom **_**Fawlty Towers**_** to know, because it forms the central part of one of their skit routines. I threw it in to see who would catch it. Finally, as for Mao's knowledge, I've demonstrated many times throughout that Mao is a natural born genius with uncanny skills in engineering, repairing machinery, inventing etc. Plus he can probe an appropriate mind for any other piece of information he needs at the moment and have a certain degree of accuracy by crosschecking against other minds. Combined with his superb perception of people (even WITHOUT his Geass) but contrasted with his antisocial (actually downright misanthropic!) tendencies and monomania, he is kind of an omnisavant.**

**Recommended Music: "Madame De Pompadour" by Murray Gold from the **_**Doctor Who Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Kanashimi" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack I**_**, followed by "Senjou no Ketsui" by the same from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack II, **_**followed by (once Mao is outside again) "Savior" by Nobuo Uematsu from the **_**Final FantasyVII: Advent Children Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Clinging Mao**_

Mao decided to take the monorail to reach the airport. It was crowded with droves of people as usual and as soon as he stepped off, he cringed as their thoughts met his mind. He turned up the volume of his player almost dangerously loud, hoping to drown them out.

Dragging his feet to the loft in the spacious glass enclosed lobby, he looked down over the rail to the level below. Just as he had predicted, he could see Lelouch discreetly instructing C.C. for her errand to the Chinese Federation. Mao didn't like the black wig that Lelouch had made her wear, hiding her emerald tresses from his sight.

"_A176 CHINESE FEDERATION IS NOW BOARDING_," a loudspeaker announced overhead. _"PASSENGERS ARE REMINDED TO PLEASE BE PATIENT DURING THIS PROCESS AND KEEP TRACK OF ALL LUGGAGE MATERIALS_."

_If you look humble, they'll look down on you. That's how it works in the Chinese Federation._

_...Good, now you can put it to use._

_How's your passport?_

Mao stayed there for just a moment, watching as the young Britannian left her and strode out of the building, his next destination the mobile headquarters of his Black Knights. Apparently, Zero had much to discuss with his minions, and early tomorrow, back to Ashford Academy for classes—the rigors of a double life.

C.C., taking her passport in hand, found an out of the way wall and leaned against it, apparently waiting for the boarding line to progress.

Mao watched her for a moment as he listened to her voice through his headphones, imagining that it was her saying it to him. A memory surfaced; the promise she had made to him after his Geass had taken over his mind.

"_Since my thoughts are the only ones you can't hear and you can only be happy when we're together. We'll just go far away from them all and I'll be with you __**forever**__. I'm always here so you won't have to worry," C.C. promised, holding him tightly._

But just as quickly, another memory came bound up with it

"_I was just using you—__**right from the start**__!" C.C. countered bitterly._

Tears welled up in his eyes and he could hardly bear, for downright agony, to look at her. Mao took a needed breath, wondering if he _should _try to talk to her again. Would her words only hurt him further? Would he be able to control himself?

"Does she love me?" Mao heard himself mutter. "_Really_?" All his life he had never doubted that one simple truth, but now… "What if she really doesn't… What if it _was _all just a lie?" He stayed like that for a few moments, watching her eyes roam across the floor. He just couldn't accept that. He sighed in frustration. "I know she did! How long have I been back among people? And I've never seen _one _of these disgusting jerks come _close _to that kind of love," he muttered. "What if I…could prove it to her?"

He looked around. It would be a bit before Lelouch returned to Ashford, so, finally, he decided to take the escalator down to the level below and approach her, his suede boots falling tentatively across the tiled floor.

As he neared her side, he let the headphones drop to his neck, grimacing at the assault on his mind.

"Mao," C.C. greeted first, her tone surprisingly calm as she turned towards him. Her eyes darted away, however, seeming to remember her surroundings, and she paused.

Mao offered a gloved hand, nudging his head in the direction of a more private milieu. "Come with me?" he asked tentatively.

"And where would we be going?" C.C. countered hesitantly, given their last encounter.

"Just...away from the line," Mao replied hoarsely, indicating his head.

Glancing back toward its present length, she nodded and stepped aside, following Mao to the face of a large column in the thinning lobby. Lelouch said to board, but he hadn't said she couldn't be the last in.

Mao closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "So…you're not surprised to see me then?" he managed, taken aback.

C.C. nodded. "The giver of Geass and the user are bound," she explained. "As long as you live, I know."

"Does Lelouch know?" Mao asked carefully.

C.C. shook her head. "I didn't tell him. I…I was afraid what he might do, given what happened last time. I just wanted you to stay away now," she admitted, looking down at the bandages a bit sadly. "I tried to stop him you know. I would have talked to you but he…" she offered quickly, her voice trailing off at Mao's blank stare.

"_Lelouch, please wait," C.C. pleaded suddenly, her voice urgent. "If you just let me-I have to talk to him…"_

_Your obsession with C.C. was the perfect distraction. I'm taking her from you forever, Mao. _

"_MAO!" C.C. screamed, straining her neck toward him, her eyes wide with horror. _

"Lelouch saw in me a potential obstacle to his future plans," Mao said for her, uttering the name as if it had a foul taste. "That's how he thinks. I know his past, his secrets, and his weaknesses. That is why he used the opportunity, whilst I was distracted by you, to try and kill me. But, as you can see, he used his Geass like an amateur—he still has a lot to learn."

C.C. nodded. "Don't forget you did the same with that girl, Shirley," she reminded him, her face expressionless. It reminded him of the look she gave him often during their time living together on the streets of China, before he had lost control of his Geass. As Mao grew a little older and witnessed how viciously C.C. would defend him against people who threatened and even attacked the pair, anyone bad who got too close became fit to die as far as he was concerned, and he, even at that age, made sure they met their fate. That was when he first noticed the look. It started out with only those who actually thought of harming her, but eventually he simply eliminated anyone whose evil impulses he sensed that came anywhere remotely near C.C.. He wanted to protect her. He didn't want her to be tainted by their filth. And all the while, C.C. would merely stare at him with that same expressionless face, watching him practice breaking them, bending their minds to his will using his deadly voice. As she saw them die even, she would neither encourage nor dissuade him. Once he even drove an entire village they passed through to kill each other, down to the last man.

"_Mao, why did you use your Geass like that?" C.C. had asked him as they trudged through the muddy dirt path out from the now ruined village. The stench of death had begun to take hold and the pair was eager to move on._

"_I didn't make them do anything they weren't going to do already," Mao retorted, staring ahead. "After all, bad people deserve bad things to happen to them, right? If you only knew the kinds of things they were thinking about all the time. It makes me sick…"_

"_Well, if you think so," C.C. replied stoically, searching the horizon._

"_I think I'm getting stronger though," Mao mused excitedly, holding out his hand to take hers. "It felt so easy...and they gave in so quickly."_

_C.C. smiled. "Definitely," she agreed, taking his outstretched hand, clasping her fingers around his. "One day soon you'll be even more powerful—and strong enough to grant my wish. When that day comes, I'll be so proud of you Mao."_

_Mao looked up at her and smiled, drawing close enough to wrap his small arms around her thighs—the highest point he could reach at that time. They stayed like that for a while, venturing deeper into the gathering fog. _

She simply didn't seem to care what his relations to them were.

A crowd of weary travelers walked by listlessly and Mao looked away for a moment, hiding the discomfort he felt.

_How many security checkpoints do I have to pass through here?_

_My, my, that woman's breasts are nice. I'd like to get my hands on those!_

_Flying is such a hassle these days. Probably the damn terrorists fault…_

Mao shook his head at one of the men in disgust.

"Lelouch is a means to an end," C.C. spoke up.

Mao turned his attention back to her, cringing at the way she said 'end' and what he knew was behind it. "While you may have _thought _that Lelouch would be a good choice because he bears no feelings for you, you cannot see his mind like I have," he warned. "He uses people like pawns in a chess match, sacrificing them to achieve his ends. But he's careful to always maintain control over the situation, convincing himself he's just a victim of desperate circumstances, forced into his course of action. You should ask him sometime just what his full plan _really _is for the world." Mao laughed despite himself. "He truly is a devil. I couldn't believe you made a contract with such a man. Ah but you think he's _your _pawn, don't you? Tell me, what will you say when he suddenly loses control? What comfort will you give after he watches those around him destroy themselves as they can no longer resist his will? He has not yet realized that to accept Geass is to end any and every other relationship. Or later, after all that agony, when you demand that he fulfill your contract—what will he say then? Once he has realized you were never his ally, never his friend and, in the end, he's lost everything he ever cared about, only to be left to wander the world for eternity? I can only imagine the rage that would consume him—enough to destroy this world in his grief. _But _as you know, there would be no relief. Not ever," Mao narrated bitterly.

C.C. glared at him, the corner of her mouth quivering. "He released me from my imprisonment," she explained, her voice like gravel. Without a hint of emotion. "So I saved his life in return. Geass was the only way."

"Well, I owe him my gratitude then," Mao quipped sardonically. "How ironic."

C.C. rolled her eyes, casting them down to the floor in frustration. After a moment, Mao sighed. He didn't want it to be this way-arguing and fighting. Just then, however, he noticed her gaze shift back, and he saw something in her eyes he hadn't seen in a while.

"But you know..." she began hesitantly. "Even now, Mao, _you_ can fulfill our contract. Even now," C.C. said to him suddenly, her voice falling to a whisper as she drew closer.

Mao's froze, taken aback as he focused on the smooth voice, lost in its sweet sound for a moment.

"I don't need Lelouch if you're here, Mao. Please. You have a gun on you, don't you? If you have a reason to live, just put it against my forehead. Pull the trigger and draw my life into yourself," C.C. pleaded, gently placing her hand against his cheek. "With my immortality, you'll be able to defeat Lelouch. You'll be unbeatable."

Mao trembled, looking at her extended arm longingly. "You're still asking me to do that?" he muttered in disbelief. "How can you be so cruel? Try to understand. I can't C.C.! I can't do it. I—I'm really sorry that I can't fulfill our contract. But you mean everything me now. _Everything! _What kind of life would it be when you…when you…" Mao stopped, unable to finish sentence.

C.C. looked down, retracting her hand. "Mao…" she murmured softly, disappointed, staring at the wounded man before her. There were no appropriate words to comfort or soothe him, but her voice was enough, she knew. "I wish I could hold you until we were _both_ dead," she ventured somewhat bitterly.

"You love me," Mao continued resolutely, grasping at the wind, trying to get her to just say those three words again. In his mind, it would solve everything. "I've heard you say it hundreds of times. I…I've needed to hear it again and again…to keep from despairing. You may have tried to pretend that you were just using me so you could push me away, but I know the truth. Nothing you could ever say would make me forget all our memories, the times we shared together, the love we made. And it's because of that, that I couldn't let you go through with your plan. It's because of that that I traveled this far, won and lost fortunes, flew through a hurricane, gunned down countless people, and challenged this…infuriating man. When you hurt, _I _die. When you're sad, _I'm _heartbroken! And when you smile you…you take all my pain away. But you're starving and exhausting me… I can't live without you!"

C.C. now closed _her _eyes for a moment, worried that they would betray her calm exterior. "Why! Why do you have to love me?" she demanded, her eyes contorting into a fierce glare. "Ever since you've returned, I've done nothing but hope to pit you against Lelouch-use you to fight over me and push the other to see which one will take my life for himself. I thought perhaps if he pressured you enough, you might do it out of jealousy or desperation. But Lelouch told me I should kill you rather than leave you this way."

"_He _told you to kill me?" Mao repeated, a bitter smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. "_Of course _he did…"

"What are you talking about?" C.C. prodded.

"C.C., he manipulated you," Mao explained dryly. "After what happened last time, Lelouch was afraid to engage me directly. It's quite a risk for him. Saying those things, triggering your emotions and blaming you, were all just tactics to get you to deal with me for him. That way he wouldn't have to."

"No, you're wrong," C.C. countered. "He even tried to use his Geass to force me not to meet with you."

"Really?" Mao blinked. That didn't make sense. "Idiot… But why would he do that? I'm telling you, I know what his plan was. Or did you forget I read minds?" he chided, leading her through the logic of his assertion.

C.C. looked down as something suddenly occurred to her. "Well…I did make him think I was leaving him for you."

"Because _really _your plan _was _to kill me," Mao said, nodding his head. "Just what _were _you planning to do afterward, I wonder?" he asked.

C.C. scowled and looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.

"But see, it made him _think_ he wouldn't be able to use you to get to me," Mao continued, shaking his head in disgust. "Hence his rather sudden scheme to use your willfulness to his advantage—you provided the distraction whilst he arranged a quiet execution for me."

C.C.'s eyes flashed angrily for a moment, listening to his words. "Well…I couldn't do it anyway. When I left you, I wanted you to _hate _me and blame _me_ for everything. You've wasted your love and affection on someone who is cold-hearted, selfish and cruel. You shouldn't love me, not after all I've done to you. **SO WHY IN THE WORLD DO YOU HAVE TO LOVE ME?**" she demanded.

Mao opened his mouth to speak but no words would come. He felt his eyes water as he pondered her admission. All that pain had simply been an attempt to get him to hate her? He stared into her faultless, unblinking eyes, suddenly angered by such a question. "It's not just because you raised me or became my lover. You were all I ever had! You were kind to me and caring. Gentle but…strong. I love your eyes, your smile, your lips, your neck, your shoulders, even your ears. The feeling of your breath on my skin, the sound of your voice, or the way your feet move across the ground are all incomparably precious to me. You rescued me from the darkest corner of my own heart, taught me _how _to love. I would never have known what it was, never have been able to even understand, if I hadn't met you. I can't imagine loving anyone else."

C.C. shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious to Mao that she wanted to say something, so he simply asked, his voice tinged with bitterness, "What are you thinking? You know I don't know."

"What do you want me to do now, Mao?" C.C. asked dryly.

Mao paused to collect his thoughts, sighing deeply. "Come back to me. Only you bring me joy or give me love. When we we're together I felt so…at peace. Let me love you, let _me_ do _whatever _it takes to mend your brokenness!"

"You are still quite young, Mao, and shall live for years yet," C.C. protested. "How can I bear it any longer? I spent eleven with you. I waited years longer than we needed just so I could take care of you. But that's over now. You are grown and you can live without me. Will I never be free of this accursed life? Will anyone ever let me rest in peace? I don't need someone to 'mend my brokenness', I need someone to release me!" she demanded.

"No I can't!" he grit his teeth. "I can't do it... I don't even want to." He looked down sadly. "Was…was it me that you couldn't enjoy? Am I just not…good enough for you?"

C.C. shook her head. "No, Mao. It was because what I have cannot be called life. It is a boundary—only when it is finite can it be called life."

"No, life is a _feeling_!" Mao protested. "It doesn't have to end—not when there are people who love you—people who _need _you."

"I told you before Mao, there can be no life without death," C.C. replied emotionlessly. "Without it all experience is nothing more than randomly accumulating events. It is meaningless. You cannot call it life. It does not _feel _like life."

Mao stared at C.C. so earnestly that she thought the very intensity of his gaze would bring tears into his eyes; but they burned with anguish-they did not water. "C.C., I can't go on like this. I have one last score to settle. But if that's your answer, it's time to silence these voices once and for all," he replied darkly.

"What are you saying?" C.C. asked, concern evident in her voice.

"…I don't think I can deal with this any more," Mao explained morbidly. "Maybe you _should _have killed me before..."

C.C.'s golden eyes welled up at the thought, despite her best attempt to remain calm. Mao stopped. The thought of a single tear streaming down her cheek on his account caused his heart to feel like it had momentarily stopped.

"But…I already tried. I couldn't do it by myself," Mao confessed gently, causing C.C.'s eyes to widen considerably.

"You what?" she demanded, shocked by what she had just heard.

Suddenly Mao grasped her arm fearfully and C.C. held her breath. "Would you do it?" he blurted out. C.C. bit her lip. "You said that you should've done it a long time ago," he pressed. "You could do this _for _me."

"You want _me_ to kill you?" C.C. asked in disbelief. "Mao, you don't have to do this. You can go somewhere safe, away from all this," she countered. "Lelouch can fulfill my contract. I release you."

Mao shook his head, his eyes like fiery pools, holding back streams of anguished flame. "Until I met you I was dead; a filthy, starving, freezing corpse clinging to a worthless existence; hating the world and being hated by it," he replied sternly. "Since you are so determined to die, then I will as well." In his mind, it was so simple.

C.C. set her jaw firmly and whispered softly, "Fine then."

Mao took a deep breath, his heart throbbing violently under the excess of desire. His face was livid with emotion. Every rise and fall of C.C.'s chest and every blink of her eyes woke a new sentiment in him. After a prolonged gaze, he turned away as if to depart, but then, looking absolutely desperate with his eyes wide and wet, he gripped her tightly, burying his face into her neck. After her initial shock, she shuffled awkwardly, flashing an embarrassed smile, and settled into his arms, returning the fervent embrace. It was the least she could do for him, she reasoned. Together, they sank to the floor, joined to each other. Mao clasped her neck and brought her cheek to his as he held her, covering her with frantic caresses. For a moment, his mind was free of its torment. He was breathing rapidly now, his whole body shuddering under his addiction. "I love you so much!" he choked wildly. And then he uttered a single word—a name—and C.C. froze, pulling away in surprise. It was a short name, but thick with the style of bygone days—an air of sophistication permeating the sound. Mao felt a sense of victory as it rolled off of the tongue, as if he was enjoying a personal triumph.

He held his breath. "I know you don't like for people to say it but…I had to…just once. It's such a beautiful name…but it's more than just a secret isn't it?"

C.C. blinked. Twice. Her sweet mouth was slightly agape as she stared at him in shock.

"I won't say it ever, ever again," Mao swore, trying to assure and placate her.

"It's alright, Mao," C.C. managed finally. "I just haven't heard it—_like that_—in a long, long time. _I_ didn't tell Lelouch, you know. It was a stupid mistake."

Mao nodded. "I know. I read his mind as soon as I saw him there. I couldn't help it, I just—I had to know when I thought I was going to die."

_Get a room!_

_I hope they're okay_

_Ah the old 'just got back from a long flight' routine… To be young, willing and able again_

_How rare! A couple that's actually sad to see each other go away on a flight. Wait a few years, they'll wizen up._

People were staring at them, but Mao didn't care.

"Well I've missed my flight," C.C. remarked finally after several moments as her eye caught sight of the clock on the wall.

Mao groaned a curse and strained C.C. closer. She acquiesced.

Finally, they parted and stood to regard each other. A sad smile crossed Mao's face as he noticed she was blushing. "Meet me tomorrow at sunset," he said solemnly. "I'll be waiting in the chapel at Ashford."

A puzzled expression crossed her face, but she nodded. "I promise."

With that, they both turned and went their separate ways.

C.C. sighed, wondering how she was going to explain why she hadn't met with the Federation. "Lelouch will be angry with me, that's for sure. I'll have to come up with some excuse," she muttered.

Refitting the headphones, Mao stumbled out of the airport onto the hot, sticky pavement broiling in the sun outside. He shuffled along listlessly, keeping his head down as an afterthought, lost in contemplation. "I'll be free. But…," Mao muttered. His feet slowed to a drag as the weight of that statement set in. There was something he couldn't quite push out of his mind.

"_I know it must have been hard for you—and I'm sorry. But thank you, Mao."_

Slowly, Mao brought his head up, bracing his hands atop a nearby metal fence. His grip tightened, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles burned red. "NO!" he shouted defiantly, pushing off the fence and whirling around.

_What's up with him?_

_Pipe down will ya!_

"_Come on, honey…"_

_Oh dear…_

"_One day Mao—hundreds, maybe thousands of years from now—you'll understand why. You'll know what it feels like to seek death but never find it. Eventually, it will get the best of you. And then you'll take someone in and curse them with this power. You'll lead them through it and soon demand the same from them. Only then can we be together," _C.C.'s digital voice explained with pragmatic sadness.

With a roar, Mao ripped out the player from his pocket and disconnected the cord, clenching his fist around the device and pulling back his arm to cast it away in defiance.

_Hyper, that's what I am_

_Can't wait till the weekend!_

_I like to color_

…_to have sex with me_

_I told him not to disturb me when I'm cleaning my room_

_How could she spell that wrong?_

_It's terrible, but everyone's just like 'Yeah right!'_

_Onions!_

_Guys are such pricks! I mean, come on! Why don't you at least listen to what I'm saying? And how about looking AT MY FACE shithead!_

"_To love at all is to be vulnerable. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, give your heart to no one. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and luxuries. Lock it up in a coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken, it will become unbreakable, irredeemable. The only place outside heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers of love is hell." Who wrote this? It's such beautiful prose…_

Mao clenched his eyes shut, his brows cleaving together. He forced his feet forward, one step at time, trudging through the street, but for some reason they felt so heavy.

_What's __**wrong **__with him?_

_Wish my wife was home and my kids weren't…_

_I'm afraid to say 'I __**love **__you'_

_**Bad luck**__ I'm afraid…_

_Not __**now**__… Go pester someone else_

_I'm gonna bust her clavicle!_

_Cheesecake and soda, oh man!_

_**IDIOT! **__STUPID, FREAKING MORON!_

_Women are very, very, very stupid… All they do is whine and complain. Why don't they get up and do something about it, huh? Instead of expecting us to do everything for them!_

_I still look down at my left hand and feel surprised to remember I'm married._

_Life is sometimes beautiful, sometimes __**bitter**__. I think today is one of the bitter days…_

_**Not even**__ my cat loves me_

_Why isn't he returning my calls?_

_I really should quit drinking… _

"_YOUR WORLD ORDER IS ENDING, YOU BASTARDS! OH YEAH! THIS IS THE NEW REGIME! OUR FLAG IS DRENCHED IN BLOOD! THIS IS NOT A DREAM! OUR TIME HAS COME! OH YEAH!"_

Mao swallowed, washing the saliva down his cracking throat. He raised his arm again, pulling it back. But his hand began to tremble and slowly he lowered the device back down. Breathing heavily, he reconnected the player to his headphones and focused on the digital sound instead of the deafening mental barrage tormenting his brain, cursing himself for his childish dependency. He was sick and she was his crutch. It was pathetic, but it was the only life he knew—the only way he could live.

"_You'll do so much, Mao. I just know it."_

Mao's eyes were blazing beneath that visor. Her touch had invigorated him and he knew what he had to do. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it was his last resort.

Life. Freedom. Love. Death.

Four outcomes. Three goals. One last chance.

* * *

**Endsong: "Last Resort" by Papa Roach**

**Author's Note: Did anyone else ever wonder how C.C. knew that Mao was there at the chapel in Stage 16? If you watch Stage 17, you'll see C.C. start to admit to Lelouch that she never even met with the Chinese Federation, though Lelouch cuts her off and tells her it doesn't matter anymore. Given that Mao can clearly be seen at the airport looking down at C.C. in the beginning of Stage 16, I think it's highly likely he approached her and caused her delay. **

**Bonus: I didn't want to reveal C.C.'s name because I prefer it being a mystery (and don't want to have to suffer continuity embarrassment if it ever comes to light). But, just for fun, can anyone can guess what name I had in mind for C.C. (time to do your best to use those mind-reading powers!), and send it to me in a review or a PM. Hint: Carefully analyze the description I gave.**


	24. Preying Mao: Can't Look Back

**Author's Notes: Well some mixed reactions to last week's twist, but you'll just have to trust me when I say it's all part of my plan. I mean, have I ever let you down *wink*? And yes, C.C. **_**is **_**a strange girl (but that's the name of her theme on the soundtrack for goodness' sake). Oh and you may have forgotten, but if you remember my old companion one-shot, "Mistakes of the Past", which is told from C.C.'s perspective, it explains how it took her months to finish recording her messages on the headphones as they were intended to be a posthumous memento. They actually kind of remind me of the tapes Sarah Connor made for her son John in the **_**Terminator **_**franchise. Oh and don't worry too much about C.C.'s name, it was just for fun, you know?**

**Recommended Music: "Yami ga Hirogaru" by Yuki Kajiura from the **_**Mai-HIME Original Soundtrack Vol. 2,**_** followed by "Kokuyou no Kimi ~Amai Yuuwaku" from the same, followed by "Atonement" by John Powell from **_**The Bourne Supremacy Soundtrack**_

* * *

_**Preying Mao**_

**(Can't Look Back)**

Mao stroked his chin thoughtfully as he surveyed his damp surroundings, illuminated by a dim light he had erected in the corner. Studying the layout of Ashford Academy, he had decided that the underground facility housing the water circulatory system would be the ideal place to set up his trap. Two thick pipelines ran parallel across the width of the room, the liquid contents of a large drain flowing down the far side into the pool below.

Mao set down a black plastic bag filled with some simple materials he had fashioned, along with a few he had acquired through some quick thinking. Climbing up one of the ladders lining the walls, he mounted a video camera against a shadowy corner, carefully wiring it into the building's electrical systems. He then sequenced the feed from the signal with a portable video display he had pick pocketed from a passerby, checking the transmission and adjusting the angle accordingly. Satisfied, he slid the device into his pocket and climbed back down.

"I wonder how long it'll take him to figure this out," he mused, walking toward the hall. Grunting in pain from his lingering injuries, he dragged something along the way—a large sentry gun he had acquired from a rather _compromised _Britannian commander he had managed to find…along with _two _of his subordinates. The Britannian military had a zero tolerance policy concerning such embarrassing matters and Mao exploited it to its full potential. He would've preferred to have been more careful about the affair, but he was strained for time as it was.

Gripping the large weapon, he stood atop the utility ladder he had pulled out of the closet and took out one of the ceiling panels. "This should slow him down," he muttered as he mounted the weapon into the ceiling using a rubber grip with metal clamps. He adjusted its motion sensitivity and activated the laser sight. Taking out an Area coin adorned with the face of the late Prince Clovis, he threw it in front of the device. Almost instantly, its chain fed magazine began spewing a flurry of suppressed rounds at the rolling coin, throwing it back behind him with the force of the fiery impact. Pleased, Mao switched off the laser sight, disconnecting the wire for good measure, and climbed down to take the elevator back up to the Academy.

Carefully peering around the corner, he erased the security code Lelouch had programmed into the system, replacing it with a simple numeric string of his own choosing—something Lelouch would never be able to guess—the day of Mao and C.C.'s 'anniversary'.

He made his way quickly through the halls, feeling nervous as he tried to balance the volume of C.C.'s recording with the thoughts of those nearby in case anyone was coming this way. Lelouch, occupied with his rebellion, had yet to arrive and he had made certain that both Kallen Stadtfeld and Sayoko Shinozaki were occupied elsewhere.

Outside once more, Mao paused before the door of the Student Government Clubhouse, a slight uncertainty gripping him. Brushing it off, he slipped inside, holding his breath as he pushed open the door—to be suddenly met by a young girl with smooth white skin and long brown hair cascading down her shoulders in thick locks. Confined to her wheelchair, she was working with a piece of _origami _paper. This was Nunnally, the object of Lelouch's affections and the inspiration for Zero's war.

Suddenly she perked up, straining her ears.

_I heard something… Who's there? Brother said he wouldn't be back till later…_

"Classes don't start until second period, Sayoko," Nunally teased, flashing a big smile.

Mao stared at her for a moment and began clapping his hands together slowly, almost toying with her as he drew her attention his way, careful not to strike the two broken fingers on his left hand. Suddenly, Nunnally's smile faded and she turned her head back and forth, her useless eyes searching the room fearfully.

_What's that noise? Who's there? They're…just out of reach_

Mao's face contorted into a snarl. There was no going back now. He strode forward, drawing out a roll of thick tape which he spread quickly over her mouth, silencing any attempted screams. Next he took a long cord and wrapped it tightly around her frail form, tying her to the wheelchair. He even bound her broken legs just to make his point.

_Who is this? What do they want with me? Where's my brother! Why are they doing this to me?_

Rummaging through some nearby shelves, he found a camera. Snapping a quick picture of Nunally's predicament, he printed the photograph and laid it gingerly on the table, surrounded by a colorful arch of Nunally's _origami _creations, adjusting its angle. Twice.

Next, taking the handlebars of Nunnally's wheelchair, he gently pushed her out of the house and back into the building he had come from, his Geass wary for any student movements that would force his hand.

_I'm moving! Where are they taking me? I can't scream! Somebody, please help!_

But, as Mao had arranged, no one came their way and no one saw as he brought her to the door, carefully wheeling her through the hall, and entered the new electronic passcode to pull her into the elevator. She had been spouting something under her gag for some time now, the muffled sound little more than noise in the background. The elevator descended down, the lights flickering for just a moment.

_When my brother finds out, he'll be really worried…_

Nunnally lost all sense of place and began to panic though

_Where are they taking me? If only they would say something… This is scary. I just want to know who it is!_

Rolling her past the disconnected sentry, Mao brought her into the dark room housing the circulatory system and parked her on the far deck across the bridge. Finally, he released her and ripped off the tape from across her mouth.

"Who are you?" Nunnally demanded, her hand going to her mouth as she tried to rub the stinging pain away. "What do you want with me?"

Mao made no reply as he went to the plastic bag full of hardware and drew out several components, a hollow weight, a steel cable, a magnetic grapple, a series of multicolored wires, a small radio transmitter, and the cooled slab he had made, complete with an electric cap molded into the top, using his suite kitchen as a makeshift laboratory.

"Answer me!" Nunnally shouted sternly. But his continued silence seemed to sap her resolve and she slumped there quietly, half-heartedly struggling against her restraints as she listened to the sound of the rushing water.

_There's water flowing here? Where could I be? I felt like I was going…down?_

Mao rolled his eyes as he climbed up the ladder along the wall and attached the cable to the magnetic grapple, letting it drop below. He tied the cable around a pipeline, pulling it several times to test its weight, but it held. Next, he ran the wires up along its edge, careful to keep them positioned together until the ends, which he cut, exposing their copper tips. Drawing them away from the line, he fed the tips into a radio transmitter he taped to the pipe's face and which could be activated remotely, by cellular phone if needed , according to Mao's programming. Descending to the floor completely, he grabbed the weight and added a solenoid. He then climbed back up the ladder and affixed the weight to the magnetic grapple, fitting the slab _inside_ it. Its roof, however, was left open. Carefully, he fed the lower tips of the wires into the electric cap sunk into the head of the slab and pulled away to survey the rig. Satisfied, he dropped back down, landing rather forcefully on his feet.

_What are they doing? I don't understand…What are all those noises?_

Gripping the base of Nunnally's wheelchair, he groaned in pain as he lifted it up and set her down beneath the hanging fixture.

"Put me down!" Nunnally demanded fearfully. "Stop!"

Mao stretched out a hand to catch his balance, taking several long breaths, surprised by his own weakness. Years of living a rugged existence had made his body lean and strong but now his injuries were making the task almost unbearable. He struggled up the ladder yet again and gave the hanging weight a light push. It began to wind its way around in a slow circle, casting an ominous shadow over Nunnally's form below.

Nunnally's head tilted upward and flinched at each _woosh _of the swinging weight and each _creak _of the steel cable.

_What's that above me? If that…is something going to fall on top of me?_

Jumping to the ground once more, he stared at the rig carefully. "He'll think he has me at the perfect distance. That's why a real one would never work. He'll never know the difference," he mused, satisfied. "Do me a favor and don't try to move. It'll…hurt if you do," he added, turning towards Nunnally.

_He spoke! _

"Who are you?" Nunnally repeated. "Why are you doing this?"

"Who am I? I'm a riddle wrapped in a mystery bound up inside an enigma," Mao sneered. "Tell me, Nunnally vi Britannia, how much do you know about your beloved brother?"

_He knows who I am! If he knows that then…maybe he's already done something with brother. But no one could possibly defeat my brother. He's the smartest person in the world._

Nunnally gasped. "How do you know that name?" she asked.

"Oh, it's not really important," Mao replied. "What's important is your brother's name. Maybe you've heard of it? Zero."

_He knows about that too! Just who is this person?_

Nunnally pursed her lips. "So is that what this is about then?"

Mao blinked in surprise, penetrating her with his Geass. "Y-You already know?" he stammered as he probed her mind.

Nunnally nodded. "Brother hates Britannia for what happened to us, to our mother and to Japan. As Zero, he gives shape to that hatred. He's always been kind to those weaker than himself-" she began.

Mao snorted. "—'Always been kind to those weaker than himself', huh?" he mocked. "Hardly."

"Suzaku was our friend; Zero saved Suzaku's life. And he saved Milly, Shirley and Nina at Lake Kawaguchi as well," Nunnally continued, ignoring the quip.

Mao was impressed. "Well you certainly have your brother's intelligence," he remarked.

Nunnally shook her head. "It's not like that at all. I have… Well, you wouldn't understand."

"B-But…how do you do _that_?" Mao demanded suddenly, looking down at her hands, seeing into her mind.

_Do "that?" He already knows about it?_

"You know about _it_?" Nunnally remarked with surprise. "Well, honestly, I don't even really know how. _It's_ just been something I could do, ever since I can remember."

"Then, you admire him? You…you've been planning something like this as well I see. Your hatred is well camouflaged by your gentle façade. You just have a bit more to overcome than your dear brother," Mao mused, glancing toward her bound legs.

Nunnally paled, taken off guard.

_This doesn't make any sense… How does he do that? Is…is he like me? I don't feel him touching me…but maybe he can do it by looking at me_

"How interesting. You revel in his affection and yearn for his love. You _want _him to destroy the world and make it more to your liking. But how does it really feel to know he's been lying to you this whole time? You, the one whom he claims this is all for? Doesn't that make you worry, even a little?" Mao goaded.

Nunnally paused for a moment but shook her head.

_Brother…lie to me? No, he…had a reason!_

"He was just trying to protect me," Nunnally countered.

Mao smirked. "Protect you? Really? Tell me, do you think you're worthy of such devotion. How could you ever satisfy Lelouch? Look at yourself! You're blind and crippled. Do you really think you could please him? Haven't you noticed all the women he surrounds himself with? It's because you can't meet his needs."

Nunnally's lip quivered and a tear fell down her cheek. _Shirley…Kallen…Miss C.C.…Milly… _"It's….it's not true," Nunnally countered weakly. "He tells me he loves me!"

"You've created a delusion for yourself, refusing to consider any information that disproves your own fantasy. But, I can't really blame you, given your hopeless circumstances," Mao replied. "What about all the people Lelouch killed because of you? He murdered your own brother Clovis and all those innocent people in Narita like Shirley's father. And though you must have known this, you did nothing. Don't you realize that you also bear this guilt therefore? Do you really want a gentle world piled high with stinking corpses in your honor?" he pressed.

Nunnally turned away from the cruel voice. "I…I am worthy. Because _he has made me_ so! He protects me, cares for me, loves me unconditionally. I inspire him, motivate him, give him a reason to fight. Even if it means blood must be shed, there is nothing that could make me happier then to see him make our dreams come true."

Mao shuddered, realizing an uncomfortable similarity. "Is that what you really think? That nothing in the world matters besides Lelouch?" he demanded, raising his voice. "I take it back, Lelouch isn't the liar here, _you _are. He thinks of you as his goddess. And you're really just a brat. How laughable!" he berated.

"If brother wishes me to be his goddess, I grant that wish," Nunnally affirmed, a serene smile washing over her face.

Mao scowled. "She's not affected by my words at all…" he muttered in disbelief. Turning away in disgust, he drew out a cheap mobile phone he had picked up and dialed a number. Striding back towards Nunnally he pressed it roughly against her ear. "It's your brother," he whispered.

"Lelouch!" Nunnally exclaimed.

_Nunnally! Finally!_

"_Nunnally! Where are you right now_?" a desperate voice demanded.

"I don't know," Nunnally admitted. "I was just told not to move."

"_Nunnally_-" Lelouch exclaimed.

Satisfied, Mao pulled it away and placed it against his own ear. "It's me, Lulu," he taunted, continuing to refer to him with Shirley's nickname.

_Mao? No, it can't be! I had him shot! Nunnally?No, no, no! It's…it's just not fair!_

"_Impossible!_" Lelouch exclaimed in disbelief, recognizing the voice.

"You were too careless," Mao explained cheerfully. "Did you really think I was dead?"

_Why? Why does it have to be Nunnally! Wait, he wants C.C.. If I can send him away to her maybe…_

"_Wait, Mao_," Lelouch pleaded. "_C.C. isn't here now so-_"

"—I know that. It's why I came," Mao retorted, amused by his tactics. "Someone who isn't affected by my Geass would only be troublesome at this point. I'll meet up with her…_later_. But first, I'm going to pay you back for your antics the other day."

_How dare he! Dammit, why did I send C.C. away at a time like this! She's my only weapon against this guy…_

"_You're somewhere within 500 meters of me_," Lelouch muttered.

"Well, of course," Mao admitted. "Want to try and search for me?"

A guttural snarl escaped Lelouch's throat on the other end.

"The time limit is five hours. And since the game is just between us, if you use the police like pawns again, you'll be automatically disqualified. I don't want to be shot like last time, after all," Mao explained, listening to Lelouch's laboured breaths. The weakling was running now. "Britannia's medical science is amazing! You should thank _them_. Though really, Lulu when you used your Geass on the police, you should have given the order to 'kill' instead of just 'shoot'. You were too careless in the end, that's why your sister is such a bind."

_My Geass? Damn this! How could I be so stupid? And now Nunnally….now she's paying for my failure!_

"Quickly Lulu, she's in danger after all," Mao mocked.

"_But Nunnally has nothing to do with this!_" Lelouch protested.

Mao nodded. It was true. But it didn't matter. Lelouch hadn't hesitated to use C.C. in order to defeat him and Mao couldn't hesitate now to make use of Lelouch's greatest weakness. But it would be pointless to raise the issue—Lelouch's active double standard was exceeded only by his unparalleled arrogance. So Mao said nothing of this and merely severed the connection.

_Poor brother… He must be so worried_

"This is a terrible game!" Nunnally protested. "If you make my brother sad, I'll never forgive you."

Mao turned toward the girl in surprise, smirking at her. "What a pair you two are. Who would've guessed it, brother and sister? Listen, I don't want your forgiveness!" Mao spat. "I'm already damned."

"No," Nunnally replied, shaking her head. "Everyone can be redeemed."

Mao looked away. "You don't know the kind of life I've lived," he muttered, his voice tinged with sadness, despite the circumstances.

_He's right. I don't…but I could._

"Let me touch your hand," Nunnally asked suddenly, reaching out her own.

_-{She will offer her hand…}-_

"What?" Mao demanded, sensing an eerie familiarity.

_Maybe he needs help… No one is truly evil…they just can't see_

"Give me your hand," Nunnally repeated. "I'll judge whether or not you can be redeemed."

"N-No," Mao stammered fearfully. "You won't stand in judgment over me!" he spat.

"What are you afraid that I'll see," Nunnally retorted, holding out her hand.

Mao slid his hand into the wrinkled coat and drew out his pistol, aiming it squarely for the girl's pretty little face. "If you try anything, I'll shoot you in the head," Mao explained dryly. He felt foolish, however, as he contemplated the threat a blind, crippled girl _actually_ posed to him. Stepping closer, he removed his glove and reached out a hand hesitantly.

As soon as Nunnally felt his cold fingers, she strained her hand forward and gripped his white palm. He flinched. Feeling his hand held felt strange after all this time.

"Go ahead," Mao mocked, trying to cover. "And you'll see all that's left for me."

Nunnally's face contorted painfully, her brow wrinkling as she processed a swirling array of images and sensations from his memories.

Mao stared at her in disbelief; her thoughts were becoming incomprehensible. His eyes widened as the moments went by.

Nunnally gasped as a tear spilt down her cheek, clutching his hand tighter. Mao grew nervous and tried to pull away, but she wouldn't release. "Let me go!" Mao shouted, suddenly afraid. "Please! Stop this!" he pleaded. His mind felt like it was going in to overload.

Finally, her hand fell away, her breaths coming in laboured gasps.

"Well?" Mao demanded, recoiling away like a switchblade, his chest heaving.

"I'm so sorry," Nunnally choked, fighting a fresh bout of tears.

Mao scowled, taken aback. "What are you talking about? Don't you dare pity me!"

"You're just a poor boy who fell in love with the one person who made you truly happy. She saved you from your pain. She gave you love and warmth. Everybody needs someone like that," Nunnally explained with fresh understanding.

Mao's face paled even further and he began to tremble.

"But how terrible, to be asked to kill the one you love. But it doesn't have to be like this anymore," Nunnally pleaded. "You don't have to die alone."

Mao shook his head frantically. "You can't possibly imagine—I want to be free! I can't take their thoughts any longer. Sometimes I'm…I'm no longer even sure which ones are mine anymore. You don't have any idea how that feels!"

"No, don't you see?" Nunnally countered. "Those thoughts are just a manifestation of your heart's desire. Deep down, you wanted to understand people. You wanted to know why they do what they do-**why they lie**, why they cheat, why they kill, **why they love**, why they are."

_"Don't you know, Geass is a wish," _V.V.'s words came back to him.

"Stop it," Mao croaked weakly. "Please…" he begged, shaking his head. "I _don't_ want to know anymore. The answer is too much! The one person who could help me…she's…she just…"

"Just tell her how you feel," Nunnally pressed, undeterred.

_Poor Miss C.C._

"I already have!" Mao exclaimed, exasperation straining his voice.

"Well, tell my brother the truth. He's very kind. I'll talk to him for you," Nunnally suggested with a smile, gaining confidence.

"He'll just try to kill me again," Mao countered hopelessly, gripping his head so tightly he thought it might burst. "He won't care." Turning his back on her, he began to trudge away across the bridge, feeling even worse. "Remember, don't move," he added half-heartedly over his shoulder.

"But there's not really a bomb," Nunnally retorted without guile.

Mao stopped. Drawing his pistol he fired a round into the air, its deafening sound echoing off the thick walls, joined by the metallic din of its casing falling to the ground.

Nunnally flinched, searching for the sound.

"If you breathe a word of that, I'll kill Lelouch without hesitation. Do you understand?" Mao warned sternly.

Nunnally nodded weakly.

Turning away once more, Mao suddenly stopped. "D-Do you…think she really loves me?" he asked, his voice low and weak.

"I do," Nunnally replied with a resolute smile, despite the circumstances.

"Well…I hope you're right. What happens next will determine the truth of the matter once and for all," Mao muttered, retreating back to the hallway up the ladder. There he made sure to reconnect the wire of the sentry gun, though he waited till after he had cleared the hall into the elevator to switch on the laser sighting system.

He tapped his foot impatiently, keeping his focus on Lelouch. "Now as long as I don't run into him before I'm in place…" Mao muttered as he peered out the elevator cautiously, making his way back through the school.

* * *

**Endsong: "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace**

**Author's Note: In the show, it **_**is **_**revealed (most notably in the end of Stage 25 of R2), that Nunnally has the ability to see a persons' memories and tell when their lying therefore, by holding their hand. It has also been confirmed by statements from the production staff and official releases. I have read before that it is because her mother Marianne conducted experiments **_**on her own egg!**_**, but am unsure as to the veracity of that information. Regardless, because she has this ability throughout the series, I think it is practically impossible that she was not **_**really **_**aware that Lelouch was Zero, given all the times she held his hand. In fact, she even warned him not to lie to her after offering her hand very early on in the series. It would seem being a manipulative Chessmaster runs in the family.**


	25. Feigning Mao

**Author's Notes: Wow, some much stronger opposition to the last chapter's revelations (albeit understandably so). People have raised the issue that the theory that Nunnally knew Lelouch was Zero because of her special powers conflicts with R2 canon. There is merit to this. However, this story will be working with the assumption that Emperor Charles used his Geass to erase Nunnally's memories of both her meeting with Mao and her knowledge of Lelouch's secret identity. When you have a mind reader like Mao, you're going to have quite a bit of people's true natures revealed. So I've attempted to portray that, highlighting overlooked or even hypothetical aspects of the characters. There was also some confusion about "the bomb", but there really wouldn't be if one understands a little bit about explosive compounds and thus what Mao **_**actually **_**made in his kitchen and what is now ominously hanging over Nunnally's pretty little head. Don't worry though, if you don't get it now, you will in the next chapter. Oh and **_**Silencian**_**, the two subordinates were men as well. You don't think a fascist nation like Britannia would tolerate such relations do you, especially within the military? And by the way, good catch of the feedback issue, not to mention that for the first time in his life Mao was on the RECEIVING end of a verbal scrutiny of his mind, rather than dishing it out. I thought that would be poetic to explore.**

**Recommended Music: "Man Verses Man" by John Powell from **_**The Bourne Ultimatum Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Treadstone Assassins" by John Powell from **_**The Bourne Identity Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Immanence" by Yoshihisa Hirano and Taniuchi Hideki from the **_**DEATH NOTE Original Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Semblance of Dualism" from the same, followed by (immediately once Lelouch enters the chapel) "The Night" by Disturbed (seriously, the intro fits the end of this chapter perfectly!).**

* * *

_**Feigning Mao**_

"_Hey Lelouch!"_

"_How are things with Shirley?"_

"_Uh…what?"_

_How can they ask such ridiculous questions at a time like this?_

"_Why don't you give her a present?"_

_Odd…he seems distracted by something_

"_More importantly, what about classes? If you don't attend-" Wait, he looks really upset…what's happened?_

"_I'm sorry, I'll…talk to you about tonight later."_

_Something is definitely wrong with him… I know my best friend_

"_I wonder if he's going gambling again? What do you think Arthur?"_

As Mao listened to the interchange, his feet met soft grass and he adjusted his visor to shield his eyes from the sun's glare. His pace increased, staying close to the building so as not to be seen from the windows.

"What an idiot," Mao muttered to himself. "Can't believe it's taking him this long. But if he isn't able to find her, this is all pointless. I suppose I'll just have to help him out a bit more."

Acting on the whim, he drew out the cell phone and gave Lelouch another call. The line connected, but Lelouch said nothing.

"Lulu, since you haven't been able to find me no matter where you search, I'll extend the time limit by one more hour," Mao explained.

_Damn, did he notice that I'm feeling anxious… He planned this—he wants to see me squirm_

"That's good, he's looking at the photo," Mao whispered as he hung up. "That's right, Lelouch. Think about your dear sister…"

_But what should I do? He should be somewhere within 500 meters in order to read my thoughts but—_

"_Lelouch!"_

_Huh? Suzaku! Damn, I have to put this photo away—oh shit…_

_Nunnally? Someone must have done something with her then…_

"_That's!"_

Mao smiled thoughtfully as the chapel came into view. "Well, this is interesting. Suzaku Kurrugi, eh? Ah, so he was also at Shinjuku. And he knows that C.C. is immortal. Well since Lelouch hasn't used his Geass on him, I suppose it's alright. After all, I should probably eliminate anyone who knows something like _that_. Still, he is a soldier. So unlike Lelouch, he could pose a problem—_physically_."

"_So something has happened to Nunnally."_

With a grunt, Mao pushed through the familiar double doors, striding towards the altar. Up ahead was a single table over which Mao had draped a thick white cloth. Carefully, he removed the drape and set it aside, revealing a golden scale with two balances hanging from the sides. It was a cheap antique really, something he had hastily picked up at a nearby pawnshop in his rush to complete the preparations on time.

_Time._ It was Mao's one disadvantage in this scenario. He had rushed from the airport and devised this strategy, quickly gathering everything he would need along the way. He had managed to arrive at the Academy before Lelouch, set up the necessary conditions in the circulatory system and the chapel, secure Nunnally and catch his breath all before Lelouch arrived from his meeting with the Black Knights. But just barely. And now he worried that, due to the rushed nature of his scenario, Lelouch might find an overlooked flaw and exploit it.

"No," Mao assured himself as he stared down at the chessboard positioned in front of the scale. "There are only four possible outcomes from this scenario. And every one of them gives me something I've been wanting."

Drawing out the radio transmitter from his pocket, he carefully integrated it with the scale, fine tuning the weight threshold and reactivity. It required extreme precision in order to synchronize the devices, something made difficult because of Mao's anxiousness, and exacerbated by his broken fingers. Clearing his mind, he focused once more on Lelouch and Suzaku. They were searching together through the Academy, engaged in discussion. Actually, from Suzaku's standpoint, it was more like an interrogation.

"_Who abducted her? Don't tell me it's an old debt from Britannia?"_

"_No. It has nothing to do with our identities." That's a lie. Well, it's not exactly a lie. But it doesn't matter. I can't allow Suzaku to use this to find anything about my secret. But if Mao has his way, all my secrets will spill out. "It's just some psychopath."_

Mao scowled with slight amusement. "Psychopath?"

"_Are you being threatened?"_

"_Yes. Our identities, might be exposed if this gets investigated."_

_Wait, isn't that a contradiction of what he said before?_

"_That's why I can't go to the police or the army."_

"_It can't be helped then. We have to think of a way by ourselves."_

"_But you swear you're not gambling?"_

_My god, Suzaku! "It has nothing to do with that."_

"_Well, do you have any clues?"_

"_Only the photograph and the fact that he's observing from nearby." Another lie._

_Wait a minute… Of course! "That's right, I heard the sound of water flowing as well!"_

"_Water…? …The circulatory system!"_

"_The underground installation?"_

"Finally," Mao exclaimed, rubbing his crimson eyes wearily. "Looks like they should be on their way to the hallway now." Mao began to snicker. "The little gift I left for them should be quite a surprise. If Lelouch meets his end there, then I will have already realized one of my goals in this little foray. Then _you'll_ know what it feels like to be shot full of holes too, brat."

_I'm surprised he didn't realize that sooner. "But that's odd."_

"_What is?"_

"_Normally, you would have noticed that immediately."_

…_He's right. Damn, I can't allow my feelings for Nunnally to cloud my senses like that. Mao will just use that against me. I need to stay sharp. Focus. Damn, my passcode isn't working. What's going on?_

"_What's wrong?"_

"_The data seems to have been changed. I'll have to hack into the login system." Let's see…here we go…_

A smirk pulled at the corner of Mao's mouth. "He bypassed it? Well done Lelouch."

"_But isn't that against school regulations?"_

"_I'll just change it back later."_

"_Then let me break in."_

"_Too late. It's already open."_

_There's no way he just figured that out. So this is how he does it… "Well, that was fast. You seem __**too**__ familiar with it."_

"_That's because the Student Council is responsible for part of its management." Let's see… 'Low ground'…_

"_Lelouch, you've been using this to sneak off campus the whole time, haven't you?"_

_Damn. "Yes. Well, occasionally…" That doesn't sound so bad, right?_

Mao winced as he accidentally sliced open his thumb. He quickly stuffed the member into his mouth, sucking off the blood.

"_What's there?"_

"_It's just as you predicted. A machine gun is wired to the observation camera." I'm glad I have this camera phone with me. I know that turret type though—it's Britannian military. How did a random psycho get a hold of that kind of ordinance? __"For that system, the lag time is only 0.05 seconds."_

_0.05 seconds? He's got us stuck with this. To get around it…we'll have to disconnect the power. But in order to cut the flow to something so instrumental as the circulatory system, we'd have to shut down the entire Academy. I could do it…or I could use my Geass to have it done. But it would undoubtedly cause a stir. The matter would be investigated. Someone would find out. Damn Suzaku, he'd probably admit it too. And with my record in the login system, scrutiny would fall on me. I wouldn't be able to answer those kinds of questions. Mao already knows this. It's just not fair… If C.C. were here, I could just push her through. She'd die a few times but eventually she'd be able to turn it off. "Then we can't get past it. Let's head up, the system—" Huh? What's he doing? "WAIT!"_

_I know I can do this. My muscles can outrun the firing mechanism. I'll exploit the extra delay time caused by the rotation of the turret head by running in an 'S' formation…_

_Impossible. Suzaku just outran a machine gun…and vaulted off the wall to kick it down! "That was…so reckless!"_

"Cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài!" Mao cursed hoarsely as he listened in disbelief, slamming his fists down into the table. "There's no way… No way! It's physically impossible! Does the universe now obey Lelouch's Geass?"

"_Now, let's go. Nunnally is waiting."_

"Regardless, this speeds up things considerably." Mao grinned, leaning against the table in anticipation, drumming his fingers.

"_Nunnally!"_

_He found me! I'm so relieved._

"_Brother! And Suzaku as well?"_

"_I'm sorry for leaving you alone. I'll get you out of there immediately!"_

_Oh no… "Wait. Look up."_

_No! Not again. "A bomb?"_

Taking the opportunity, Mao dialed Lelouch's number again. "I'll excuse Kururugi's presence, since he came of his own free will," he announced once he heard the line connect. "But I can't wait to see how you two deal with this."

_Poor Nunnally…_

"_Nunally, we'll diffuse the bomb. Don't worry, it'll be fine. There's nothing that can't be achieved if Lelouch and I work together, right?" Suzaku asked cheerfully._

_Poor brother, he's so distressed now. But that man said he'd kill him if I told about the bomb. I have to just keep quiet I suppose. "Yes," Nunnally agreed weakly._

A shrill cackle escaped Mao's throat. He couldn't help but laugh.

_A motion sensitive bomb? Looks like a solenoid is used to provide the energy necessary for it to remain in constant motion. "If any external forces interfere with the motion, then the bomb will…" Lelouch's voice trailed off._

"_Explode," Suzaku finished. We can't move her either… "It could also happen if Nunnally is moved. We should take that into consideration as well. _

"_Can you calculate what kind of radius the blast would have?" Lelouch asked._

"_The radius for a bomb of that size would have to be over 500 meters," Suzaku deduced. _

_That means that Mao must be outside of his Geass' effective range. Was this to lure me in? Or is he trying to mislead me? Seems like an incredibly stupid risk to take, given what happened last time. _

Mao clamped a hand over his mouth, barely able to contain his derisive glee. "I never thought it would be so easy to deceive him," he scoffed. "Indeed to even think I would make such a blunder after what happened last time! So far, so good."

"_Do you know a way to dismantle it?" Suzaku asked._

"_Theoretically," Lelouch admitted. "We need to cut the power line that's linked to the detonator. This person isn't a demolitions expert, so we should be able to tell the fake wires apart." _

"Right, _I'm _not an expert, though you can't even tell a real bomb from a fake," Mao quipped to no one in particular as he watched the sun's waning rays moving along the stained glass window, the colors deepening with each passing moment as they heralded the approach of the night.

"_But we have to think of another way," Lelouch determined. _

"_Why?" Suzaku asked."We just need to be able to tell it apart and choose the right one." What's so complicated about that?_

"_To diffuse it while it's in motion is not humanly possible," Lelouch explained. "To attempt to do so, would only trigger the explosion." _

"_Let me do it," Suzaku assured him. If I just jump with the right momentum, surely I can cut the wire without a problem. I'm sure I could do it._

"_Don't be so reckless!" Lelouch scolded fiercely. His antics are going to get Nunnally killed if I'm not careful."We don't have enough information."_

_Suzaku and brother are arguing. At a time like this? It's so hard to keep a secret…but it can't be helped. I have to protect brother._

"That's right Nunnally, think about your dear brother. Who will protect him if you don't?" Mao mused, quite satisfied with their collective struggle. "After all, one has to laugh every now and then, even at oneself. If just to keep from going insane."

"_It's good to be cautious, but we have a time limit," Suzaku countered. "Look at me. I'm a soldier after all. Can't you make use of this fact."_

"You can't let him do it, Lelouch," Mao muttered carefully into the dusty air of the empty chapel. "It's too much of a risk for you. If he tries though…and they trigger it, it won't take them long to realize it's ultimately harmless." A smile returned to his face as he repeated that word, "_Ultimately_. But then this part of my plan would be a failure," he mused. A slight nervousness began to nag at his mind, but he suppressed it, continuing to listen patiently. "The fact that he thinks I'm out of range, should make him overconfident just like I predicted. So what will you do now, prince?"

"_Suzaku. I do have a plan. In order for it to work, you have to do exactly as I say though. I can't let you try and disable the bomb though," Lelouch began. "I'm not comfortable with that kind of risk, given the stakes involved."_

"_I'm listening," Suzaku replied carefully, shaking his head in disappointment. He should just let me do it. I know I can._

"_This person's true target is me. I can't explain why, but he's fixated on beating me. I'm certain he has a way to disable the bomb. He'll use it to bait me. I'm going to call him and agree to meet on campus. He'll think I'm acting out of desperation, but really I want you to call Sayoko and have her come here immediately to wait with Nunnally, while you secretly slip out and come to the place I tell you," Lelouch explained carefully. "I'm going to distract him. When you hear me scream, it's a sign that I want you to rush into wherever we are and, using your authority as a soldier, arrest him. Do you think you'll be able to do that? He'll probably be armed."_

"_That's nothing. It'll be easy," Suzaku affirmed, taking out his phone and dialing Sayoko's number._

"_Alright. Excuse me for a moment while I call him." _

"_Hello?"_

"_Sayoko, it's Suzaku. Lelouch needs you to come back to Ashford immediately." _

"_What's going on?"_

"_Someone's done something with Nunnally. Take an elevator down to the circulatory system, that's where we are." I hope she comes here quickly. Damn, I know I can disable this thing… Why does Lelouch have to be so slow about this stuff?_

"_I'll be right there."_

Mao smirked. "Interesting plan. But even if you think you're out of range now, when you come here you know I'll be aware of your scheme," he mused. His phone was ringing. It was Lelouch. "I suppose I'll just have to play along till I can understand what his game is," he muttered, flipping it open and pressing the device against his ear. "So you decided to call me," Mao answered. "Have you given up yet?'

"_Hardly," _Lelouch replied sternly._ "I want you to tell me where you are. I'll come to you. That's what you want, isn't it? You must have some kind of game prepared. We'll settle this there."_

"Bold words," Mao replied. "But very well. I'm in the campus chapel."

Without another word, Lelouch hung up.

"_Suzaku! We'll Sayoko be here?"_

"_Yes, she said she was on her way right now."_

"_Good. Listen, this guys waiting for me in the campus chapel. You know where that is right?"_

"_I'm pretty sure. I mean, I've never been there. Not really the praying type." Not with the kind of things I've done anyway…_

"_Suzaku, focus. Once Sayoko arrives, quietly slip out and wait around there. Find out his position by peering into the windows or something—careful not to be seen. When you hear me scream, burst in and take him down." This has to work…_

"_I understand."_

"_I'm trusting you completely, Suzaku. This whole plan depends upon you. I'm placing Nunnally's life in your hands."_

"_I'll save her. I promise. And good luck to you."_

_It isn't a matter of luck… Alright, now just one more thing. Here, this piece should do. Where's Suzaku? He's far enough away not to notice, I suppose. Activating my Geass… "Forget everything you've told Suzaku regarding your plan to defeat Mao."_

Mao's eyes widened in surprised and his mouth fell open in shock. "He actually used his Geass on himself? I never would have expected _that_!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "Now he thinks I'll be unaware of his real plan, since _he's _unaware of it." A maddening smile spread across Mao's face as it set in. "With this…you…you've already been completely defeated Lelouch!" He stared off into space as he pondered this sudden change, his eyes gleaming wildly.

"How disappointing though. I've gotta say, this victory won't be much fun now. You tried too hard to win using your intellect, still refusing to accept the fact that even you—no, _because_ it's you-could never defeat me this way. Well that's fine, thanks to your delusion of superiority, you'll die here today. And _as for me_, I will claim my victory, my revenge and my beautiful beloved!" He threw his head back as maniacal laughter issued forth from his throat, the twisted, blazing Geass in his eyes casting a deep crimson glow through his gaze; his thirst for revenge warping his mind beyond reason. When at last the fit subsided, he brought his face down once more, his eyes narrowing. "Still Kururugi coming here _could_ be a problem—he's unpredictable…just like Kallen," Mao mused once he regained his composure. "The sign is a scream, which means Lelouch is expecting himself to lose without his memory. He's gotten wiser since our first encounter, I see. But he won't know it's a sign either. So I should shoot Lelouch, before Kururugi can get there, since I can't predict when he'll do something so base as scream. He knows that too; it's why he chose it. As for his new pawn, I honestly don't know if I could kill him or not—not after what I just saw him do to that turret. _But_…the mind is always fragile." A dark smile spread across his face. "Perfect."

_Classes were so boring_

_Now I just need to last until the final exams…_

_It's the rule…_

_That stupid teacher!_

_Memorization…memorization. I get it already…_

Mao raised a hand to his temple firmly to rub away the barrage, cursing himself for letting his mind wander. "What a bunch of ignorant selfish brats," he muttered. "That's why I hate schools so much." Taking a deep breath, he found Lelouch again and allowed himself another confident smile, taking a seat upon one of the chairs and crossing his legs.

_What does he have planned next? The observation camera observing Nunnally should be transmitting to Mao. I can't believe he came to the school. What a reckless guy. I've left Suzaku there with her, though. She should be alright. The only thing left that I can do is…_

Mao's lip began to quiver once more just as he sensed Lelouch reaching for the door. "No, I can't laugh now… I have to hold it in…just a little bit longer," he forced himself, pursing his lips together and breathing in through his nose. "After he dies…and I claim my victory."

The doors swung open, bathing the dim surroundings in the sun's waning light which cast an impressive glow against Lelouch's dark figure.

Mao sat enthroned before him, his face obscured by his visor and his bandages, all except the unnerving smile that broke across his features. Slowly, dramatically, he stood up from his throne and spread his arms, clapping his hands together in sarcastic acknowledgment as he focused his Geass fully upon the angry prince. "Well, if it isn't the heart breaker. You have no strategy, no weapons and you've left Nunnally just as she was. You can't use the Black Knights or that friend of yours," he mocked.

_Psychopathic asshole… What am I doing here? I'm unarmed. He still has that damn visor too!'_

"What's wrong, Lulu?" Mao teased.

"I don't have to explain anything to you," Lelouch declared, his mouth distorted into a deep frown. _You're already crawling around inside my head. _"You've prepared our last game, haven't you?" _This time Mao… I'll make sure you're dead. For good._

Mao nodded. "Yes. Let's put an end to this…" he remarked, throwing off the white sheet to reveal a chessboard—the same one he had fought Lelouch upon last time. The same one he had delivered a crushing defeat with. "…With _your_ specialty."

**To be continued…**

* * *

**Endsong: "The Night" by Disturbed.**

**Author's Notes: In the show, Lelouch assumed Mao was 500 meters away. However, I believe this assumption was a miscalculation for three reasons. (1) Mao would have had to be a complete idiot to put Lelouch outside the range of his most effective weapon, especially given what happened last time. (2) Cut between scenes of Lelouch and Suzaku with Nunnally in the sewer are scenes of Mao laughing or responding in some way to their predicament without looking at his portable video screen—as if he's reacting to them, which he logically couldn't unless his telepathy was at play. (3) 500 meters is a rather large area (which is why Mao's Geass is so terrible). To put it into perspective: the enormous city of Tokyo is over 4 million meters in size. So Mao's Geass forces him to listen to the thoughts of an area 8,000****th**** the size of Tokyo (which fits 5,847 people per **_**kilometer**_**), that is, roughly 0.319 miles. The apparent distance between the Academy building Lelouch and Suzaku are _below_ (unknown distances involved there, but short enough for a quick elevator ride) and the campus chapel where Mao is are within walking distance, but I have reasonable doubts regarding that distance extending farther than that, given the time taken for Lelouch to walk there. There is also a 4****th**** reason: When he made the statement, Lelouch didn't know Mao was in the chapel—he merely determined Mao had to be out of range because Suzaku said the size of the apparent bomb would have resulted in a 500 meter wide explosion.**


	26. Avenging Mao: Sunset Showdown

**Recommended Music:**** "Kagutsuchi Kourin" by Kajiura Yuki from the **_**Mai-HIME Original Soundtrack I**_**, followed by (once Suzaku appears) "Nightmare" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion Soundtrack**_**, followed by "Kaze no Ishi" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Suites CD vol. 5**_

**Opening Song: "Brand New Day" from _Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog_**_**  
**_

* * *

_**Avenging Mao**_

**(Sunset Showdown)**

Lelouch blinked in surprise, staring at the board nervously. He recognized it too.

_There has to be some way I can beat him. If I just think… No, that's pointless. He knows everything I'm thinking. But if I avoid the mistakes I made last time—overconfidence, recklessness, speed—there might be a way. I've conquered many opponents—not even Schneizel could beat me. Of course, it was still a stalemate…focus!_

Lelouch strode over to the black side of the board and took his place, staring down at the pieces carefully.

"This balance," Mao explained, indicating the ornate device of brass, quartz and nickel positioned beside the board. "Is both the detonation and the dismantling switch for the bomb," though, of course, Lelouch was quite ignorant of his true meaning. "Any pieces captured are to be placed upon it. If the needle swings toward my side completely, the bomb will be detonated. Likewise, if the needle swings toward your side completely, it will be dismantled. In other words, if you win the game, you'll save your sister."

_What a jerk. To attack Nunnally like this… He's not even playing fairly. Maybe I can provoke him though… If I make him angry, he might lose focus, make poor judgments._

"This is a twisted game—just like your mind," Lelouch countered sternly. "No wonder C.C. left you," he added with a cold glare.

Mao blinked underneath his visor. He was aware of the ploy, of course, but the words still bore a certain sting nonetheless. "It's pointless to provoke me. Your thoughts are clear," he replied dryly.

With that, the game began. Lelouch tried to be careful this time, avoiding giving Mao opportunities to take his pieces if possible and taking control of much smaller portions of the board at a time. But each move Mao made seemed to result in the capture of another one of Lelouch's pieces despite all his efforts.

_Three pawns and my knight… I needed that knight later though. Damn this! If I move the bishop there and take his knight, I can open up his defense a little bit. The key is to give him something he can't refuse to take, while I create an equally favorable situation elsewhere when he can't respond due to his prior committal. But…he's listening to this right now! What if I just let my mind go blank. If I'm not having any thoughts—if I just play by instinct, maybe I can turn this around. Let my mind go blank…blank…blank…._

"You're not the type of person that can empty your mind," Mao chided. "You're constantly criticizing your actions and then observing and studying the critique. It's just who you are. But it's useless. _No matter what you think,_ my victory is certain," he added, taking Lelouch's other knight and dropping it upon the scale.

Lelouch bristled.

_My knight! Damn, he didn't go for either the bishop or the pawn. Wait, if I can't block it, maybe I can overload him—confuse him! Think of…so many things at once, he can't find out what's true and what's just a distraction. __Qb3? Na4? Qa3? __Nxg5? B__xc3? Bxe7? Be6?_

"Incredible!" Mao exclaimed, clapping with genuine respect, keeping his broken fingers aloft. "You tried thinking about seven moves at once in order to confuse me. "But as long as my Geass is focused directly upon you, it's easy to tell what you're _really _thinking."

_I can't win! He even foiled that…what the hell am I supposed to do now? This isn't any good…my pieces are totally disorganized._

"Even your last plan has failed," Mao mused rather coldly as he tossed another piece into the air, catching it in his palm. "It's because you've underestimated me that your sister is in danger," he added, shooting the conquered piece into the bowl on his side of the scale, the needle moving dangerously close to the red threshold.

Lelouch's eyes widened, riveted upon the tenuous balance. He noticed he was shaking.

_What should I do?_

"What should I do?" Mao repeated, mocking his thoughts.

_I'm out of strategies…_

"I'm out of strategies," Mao continued, his voice exaggerated.

_I could make use of the others, but as long as Nunnally is being held hostage…_

"I can't call for help as long as Nunnally is being held hostage," Mao read, taking the Area coin out of his pocket and dropping it upon the ground for effect. The glint of the metal combined with the shrill ring as it collided against the hardwood floor seemed to disturb Lelouch and he gasped, abruptly losing focus.

"My apologies," Mao feigned, stooping down to snatch it back up. "I must've dropped it."

Lelouch bit his lips, his eyes riveting back to the board.

_There has to be something I can do… I can't leave Nunnally like this._

"It's your turn," Mao pressed. "You should hurry, time is running out. You'll lose your sister at this rate." Mao grinned. He would lose everything, in fact. _Everything_.

Lelouch placed his wavering hand over the board, his skin deathly white, almost as white as Mao's own. Tentatively, he gripped his king.

"Are you sure you want to make that move?" Mao chided, his mouth turned in a deep frown.

Lelouch's stared at Mao, his once hard face now like a frightened child; no, a kicked dog.

_What does he see that I don't?_

Mao frowned. "Is it _really_ alright?"

Lelouch's hand began to tremble violently.

_I can't do this. I can't do this. Not like this. There's too much at stake. He's unbeatable. I'm gonna lose if I continue this. Enough of this. Please, Mao._

Lelouch's closed his eyes as his shoulders slumped in defeat. "Enough of this," Lelouch began, his voice almost falling to a whisper. "I can't take anymore."

Mao tilted his head sideways, ruminating over all the times someone had uselessly begged Zero for their life. Or the haughty grin Lelouch had flashed only days before as he ordered Mao's execution. But now all his arrogance had been replaced with hopeless resignation and groveling. How pathetic. Even in what he thought was his final moments, Mao hadn't deigned to beg for his life—he had fought for C.C. to the last.

"Mao, please stop this," Lelouch begged, unwilling to bring his eyes back up.

"What's this?" Mao mused, pleased by the display; enjoying his chance to inflict him with such suffering.

Lelouch couldn't take it anymore. "Enough of this already! Please spare Nunnally! I beg you!" he shouted, spreading his arms wide.

"Hmm…" was Mao's only reply, a mockery of the man's desperation, exaggerating his intonation and drawing it out slowly.

_I've lost. There's no hope and I've met my match. He found my weakness and used it to cripple me. Mao is…superior to me_

"I…" Lelouch stammered. "I admit it. I've lost. You've…beaten me," he confessed.

Mao smirked, a slight chuckle emanating from the depths of his throat. Slowly it transformed though until he threw his head back in maniacal laughter, filling the vacant chapel with its unnerving sound and clapping vigorously, his arms raised above his head in exultation. "You're right!" Mao shouted exuberantly. "Well said! After all this time—all those lies-you're _finally_ speaking the truth from deep within your heart! Doesn't it feel great?"

Lelouch clenched his teeth, averting his gaze, but gave no overt opposition. He wanted mercy and he was willing to let Mao have his little rant in order to get it.

"However, the answer is **no**," Mao replied, his voice no longer amused but cold like stinging ice. Lelouch froze, his shoulders falling in fear. With everything in position, Mao gripped the queen and brought her forward, trapping Lelouch's king. "With this, I call **CHECKMATE**!" Mao announced, swiping the defeated piece from the board and tossing it into his side of the balance, throwing the needle into the red.

Lelouch's eyes widened in terror. He screamed, falling backward in shock. "NUNALLY! he breathed, staring up in disbelief.

_It can't be... She's not **really **dead. There's just no way-not with Suzaku there. The world better hope she's not dead!_

Mao quickly slid his hand into his coat, gripping the pistol firmly, aware that Lelouch had unknowingly delivered the sign to Kururugi waiting patiently outside. There wasn't much time to gloat; he would have to make this quick. The signal from the balance should have already traveled to the transmitter and sent a charge to the electric cap affixed into the slab, filling the room with thick smoke. Just as planned.

"Let's see if she's burst into little pieces," Mao mused for effect as he used his free hand to take out the portable video display to toss it to Lelouch, that way he could see the smoking room, completing the ruse. Once Lelouch was taken care of he'd have the time to _properly_ deal with Suzaku. Everything would work out.

However, as he glanced briefly at the screen, he was shocked to see a clear view. Nunnally sat unchanged, as if nothing had happened. "What?" he muttered. It didn't make sense. The slab should have burned off, smoking the room beyond recognition, enough to deceive Lelouch into thinking an explosion had detonated. "How?" he breathed in confusion, the hand gripping his pistol absently sliding down to his side as he strained his eyes to examine the tiny rig displayed therein, searching for the source of the malfunction.

_-{But there will be no smoke}-_

Lelouch merely stared up at him from his knees, his raven hair drenched in sweat.

Mao's eyes widened. It couldn't be.

_-{She will offer her hand but there will be no smoke}-_

Suddenly there was burst of air as the stain glass window shattered open, followed by Suzaku who vaulted inside and landed squarely upon his feet.

"Damn, you distracted me!" Mao cursed as he wrenched the pistol up from his side, firing off several quick rounds. As Mao had feared, however, Suzaku was too fast and he evaded them, rushing forward and delivering a firm punch into his face, sending Mao sprawling to the ground painfully, his visor and headphones falling away from his face.

Mao groaned, closing his eyes at the stinging pain. Suzaku kicked away the pistol, standing guard over him. Lelouch stood shakily to his feet, surprised by the sudden turn of events.

_This is the psychopath? He's certainly dressed oddly enough. But he looks injured. Badly. What's with all the bandages?_

"I'm Suzaku Kururugi, warrant officer from the Britannian Army," the young man explained, adopting an authoritative stance. "I'm placing you under arrest."

"Suzaku…" Lelouch breathed in disbelief, still not catching on.

"You _dismantled_ it ?" Mao asked in disbelief as he probed Suzaku's thoughts. "You 'matched your momentum to the motion of the swing'…" Mao read, shaking his head. It was physically impossible. Regardless of Kururugi's athletic abilities, there was no way he could've cut the wire without disturbing the flow and triggering the slab. Humans just aren't able to do things like that. Which left only one explanation—somehow the homemade device had malfunctioned—meaning Kururugi's actions were inconsequential. Since he had cut the wire, however, the problem had to rest with the electric blasting cap—the slab itself was perfectly mixed. He hadn't had the time to test it properly, after all.

"It's because Lelouch showed me which line would have to be cut," Suzaku explained.

"What?" Lelouch exclaimed. _I specifically told him NOT to try! It was too dangerous… He could've just gotten Nunnally killed. Stupid, reckless soldier._

"What I told you?" Lelouch demanded.

"Well it was your deduction," Suzaku said, dodging the question. "You told me to barge in once I heard screaming."

"I did?" Lelouch asked in genuine confusion. _When did I say that? What in the world is he talking about? I left him there to guard Nunnally… How could I forget something like that? Unless…_

_That's strange. He made such a big deal about it before, how could he have forgotten? Is he pretending in front of this guy?_

Lelouch furtively slid his hand into his pocket, drawing out a small mirror. He stared down into the glass, flashing his Geass. _Of course! This is the only explanation._

"Mao, _this _is checkmate," Lelouch announced, his confidence returned, that same proud smirk returning to his face.

Mao stood painfully to his feet, rubbing his jawline. "Lelouch!" he muttered angrily. It was a warning.

_I used Geass on myself to forget what I told Suzaku to do. You, who believe that thoughts are absolutely reliable, have lost. In order to defeat my countermeasures, your Geass' effective range was reduced as well, leaving you open to attack. Your last mistake._

Suzaku gripped Mao's arm firmly. "What did you intend to do if he failed?" Mao demanded, following Lelouch's logic.

_That's true. This plan couldn't have been carried out if I didn't trust Suzaku._

"Sayoko, it's alright now," Suzaku muttered into his phone.

_"Sayoko?"_

_"Don't worry, I'm going to get you out of here."_

"Do you think you've won?," Mao seethed, striding forward, struggling against Suzaku's restraint.

"Stop it," Suzaku warned, taking hold of his other arm.

"Let go of me you father killer!" Mao spat, wrenching his arm free.

Suzaku's hazel eyes widened in horror and he stared agape at Mao, his lips quivering as his world spun. _How…How…How could he know that? HOW THE HELL DOES HE KNOW THAT?_

_What's this? I've never seen Suzaku so…afraid…_

"You killed your own father seven years ago," Mao explained bitterly, briefly glancing out the broken window. The sun had almost set. She would be here soon. "You thought the war would end if you stopped your father, who was fiercely committed to a policy of resistance. What a childish view of things. You're just a murderer!"

"No, I just…" Suzaku stammered. "I just…" _Please…don't. Not in front of Lelouch!_

"How fortunate the incident was covered up," Mao continued. "All the adults in your life lied in order to protect you."

_Suzaku? Did he really? Did he really do something so horrible? _"Then…the report from the army that Prime Minister Kururugi had committed suicide in a protest _against _military action was…" Lelouch muttered in disbelief, his voice trailing off.

"It was all a _big_ lie," Mao sneered.

"Lies," Lelouch repeated, looking at his friend with new suspicion. Even he was being drawn in by Mao's words.

"I had no choice!" Suzaku protested, turning toward Lelouch in desperation. _No, Lelouch! Don't look at me that way! _ "If I didn't do it, Japan would have…"

"—Is that your excuse? That's nothing but a pitiful attempt to justify yourself, and you know it," Mao countered sternly. "Death is what you seek!"

Suzaku gasped, backing away from Mao fearfully. But now Mao held _him_ there, refusing to let go of his arm.

"You want to save people?" Mao pressed, flashing a diabolical grin for effect. "No, the thing you want to save is your own seared conscience, isn't it? You hope that you'll die while doing so, don't you? That's why you always throw yourself in harm's way; place yourself on the verge of death."

_Stop it! Shut up! Just shut up! I had to! I HAD TO!_

Suzaku screamed, falling to his knees beneath him, like so many others before—a series of agonized whimpers emanating from his throat. But Mao wasn't finished—he was furious and he had plenty more venom to spew at the brat.

"You're no hero. You just want to wash the blood off of your hands. Your kindness is nothing more than intellectual masturbation; a pathetic attempt to atone! You're just a little brat begging to be punished!" Mao spat as he finally peeled Suzaku's limp arm off of him and let him drop to the floor like rock.

_So that's what kind of child Suzaku was… This information could even be useful to Zero. I want to make him my comrade, after all… Nonetheless, I can't let Mao carry on like this. He's eyes are uncovered and he's distracted—he's open to my attack! What would be an appropriate punishment for daring to challenge my power or touch my beloved Nunnally? Ah, I have a deliciously ironic fate in mind…_

"MAO!" Lelouch shouted imperiously, flashing his Geass.

"Shit!" Mao was the only curse could get out as his bare eyes met Lelouch's, his feet riveted to the spot as his mind fell into a placid trance.

"I order you to never speak again!" Lelouch thundered and Mao shuddered in fear, feeling the psychic command take effect within his mind just as the memory of the event was erased. He stared ahead aghast, his mouth making tremulous motions of speech. But he could form no words, only a sickening combination of gasps, gurgling moans, and grunts. He raised a gloved hand to his throat in disbelief. Before he knew it, Lelouch was running toward him. He threw a punch, spreading his arms protectively over Suzaku, but it was too slow and Mao easily evaded it, taking off running.

"Wait!" Lelouch shouted. _Damn, he's getting away. I can't allow him to come back and repeat this all over again_

But Mao ran, not looking back.

_Father….father!_

_How could he give me that grade! That old bastard! _

_"It's getting late. We should probably head back…"_

_This book doesn't make any sense at all…_

_Where's Shirley gone off to?_

_I hope brother's alright._

_Damn, I'm out of cash. Maybe he'll cover for me?_

_What can I say to snap Suzaku out of it?_

_Zero seemed distracted at the last meeting. Hmm…I wonder if something's wrong._

_Can't the students even pretend to pay attention? My goodness!_

_Somebody buy a kabob? Please! Please someone buy a kabob. I really need the money_

_"I just...I just…!"_

Mao closed his eyes, clenching his teeth in agony. He couldn't find anything to focus on and now, with the loss of his speech, he lacked any way to differentiate his own thoughts. If the world looked horrible before, it was absolutely terrifying now.

He had to get out of there. He had to get to C.C. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to just throw his arms around her and sob into the crook of her neck. He still wasn't able to kill Lelouch. Whatever happened next, C.C.'s life would remain endangered because of his failure here today—because of the interference of another of Lelouch's mindless puppets.

He crashed against the double doors, grunting from the pain, pushing through them. He stumbled outside, sweeping his gaze back and forth. And then-he saw her up ahead, the object of his affection and the reason for his existence. C.C. was standing there, waiting for him just as she had promised. She looked so beautiful, her verdant hair gently streaming in the wind, her golden eyes radiating with warmth. All of the thoughts assaulting his mind seemed to fall away in her presence.

Mao hesitated, wondering what she had chosen.

"I did love you, Mao," C.C. confessed suddenly and Mao's felt his heart brim with happiness as his eyes sparkled in adoration, his mouth opening in a huge, uncontainable smile. She had said it! She had finally said it again! Mao smiled hopefully, trying to choke out her name as he ran to her. He wanted to tell her the same, but for some reason he couldn't. But it didn't matter—all that mattered was her. Rushing over, he met her in the middle, his face a breath away from hers. He stood there, waiting for her to embrace him.

"Mao, wait for me in C's World," C.C. whispered tenderly, reassuringly, as she solemnly placed the suppressed barrel of a pistol against his neck.

Mao's eyes widened. It didn't make sense. She had declared her love, just as he wanted, but she was _still _going to kill him? He had done this all for her! No, that wasn't quite true...it was also-!

C.C. pulled the trigger just as Mao tried to shake his head and he felt a sharp pain pierce through his neck. The voices stopped but his body went numb and he fell to the ground at her feet. It seemed he would be free from his Geass at last. But only at least.

_C.C. stooped down, concealing the gun inside her waistband as she drew Mao's form close, spreading her arms around him and placing her soft chin upon his platinum head. She closed her eyes.  
_

_After a few moments, she heard Lelouch call out her name as he emerged from the thick chapel doors. "What are you doing here? How did you know-" Lelouch began suspiciously, looking down upon her as she held Mao's body almost protectively in her arms._

_"-Mao is at peace now," she replied cryptically, silencing him._

_"Well, then you've removed yet another obstacle to my plans," Lelouch acknowledged triumphantly. "I'm grateful. I thought he was going to escape again…what's wrong?" he added, noticing the bland look in her eyes._

_"I'm fine," C.C. replied without a tinge of emotion. "You have a contract to fulfill," she reminded him. "You should be focusing on that."_

"_You needn't remind me of my obligations," Lelouch countered, his voice full of annoyance. "Since you won't tell me what I have to do yet, I suppose we should get back to work. What about him?"_

_"Mao is my responsibility, Lelouch," C.C. affirmed. "I'm going to dispose of the body properly first."_

_Lelouch raised an eyebrow. "Is he really dead then?" he asked._

_C.C.'s eyes flashed dangerously for a moment. "You doubt me?" she retorted._

_"Let me check him," Lelouch replied guardedly, undeterred. C.C. released her grip on the body slightly as Lelouch felt the neck carefully. _

_"Why are you being so suspicious?" C.C. demanded, exasperated._

_"Because you kept the truth from me before!" Lelouch retorted with a sudden outburst, almost shaking. Though his analysis proved true. "First you never even tell me you have a psychotic former contract out there whose power rivals mine. Then I watched that man get shot in a way no one could possibly survive. Yet he lived and returned to attack me again. And this time...he came for Nunnally. I know for a fact that you can sense whether those who have contracts with you are alive or not. But you chose not to reveal that information either. So forgive me if I don't take your word for it."  
_

_C.C. looked away. "I don't have to tell you anything I don't want to. We talked about this before."_

_"C.C., so help me, if something had happened to Nunnally, I...I..." Lelouch stammered, his eyes locked in a fierce glare._

_"You'd what? Kill me?" C.C. mocked. "You should go help your friend."_

_Lelouch's voice faltered. It was a baseless threat, and he knew it. There was nothing he could do to her. And he needed her for his plans anyway besides. She was a troublesome woman. Without a word, he turned away and strode back toward the chapel. However, just as his fingers met the doors, he stopped for a moment.  
_

_"Remember how you said I absolutely could **not** defeat Mao? Well here we are and I've done just that. You should consider that when going forward." He turned his head ever so slightly to sneak a look at her face._

_Her face, however, remained an absolute deadpan, the glare of her golden eyes like blazing steel  
_

**The End...?**

* * *

**Endsong: In The End by Linkin Park**

**Author's Note: Because of the fact that if the bomb were fully functional, Suzaku's subsequent actions would have been physically impossible and it **_**would**_** have been triggered when he attempted it, the bomb's problem had to lie elsewhere. There really isn't much getting around the fact that it is impossible to actually EXACTLY match one's momentum with that of an extremely delicate AND volatile swinging fixture in **_**midair **_**without blowing yourself up like an idiot. Then again **_**Code Geass **_**isn't exactly the most realistic anime, but I have to draw the line somewhere. Thus I proposed it was just a fake, and a malfunctioning one at that, designed to deceive Lelouch. This I must do in order to guard the sanctity of physics somehow without contradicting what we saw happen.  
**


	27. Ascending Mao: The World of C

**Musical Recommendation: "The Nightmare Begins" by Nobuo Uematsu and Final Fan Tim from the **_**Final Fantasy VII Original Soundtrack (Remastered Edition)**_**, followed by "Cloud Smiles" by Nobuo Uematsu from the **_**Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children Soundtrack **_**(seriously it is the PERFECT track for this!), followed by "Tifa's Theme (Piano Version)" from the same, followed by "Heiwa no Inori" by Toshihiko Sahashi from the **_**Mobile Suit Gundam SEED Original Soundtrack II**_**.**

* * *

_**Ascending Mao**_

**(The World of C)**

Mao slowly opened his eyes, instinctively raising a hand to shield them from the bright light bearing down upon him. Only, upon closer inspection, there didn't seem to be any discernible source of that light—merely a winding canvas of spiraling clouds rolling across a burnt orange sky at impossible speeds.

He opened his mouth as if to comment on his surroundings, as was his habit, but heard only a broken croak, as if he were gasping for air. He quickly gave up the attempt, sickened by the sound.

_Where am I? Why can't I speak? I thought I was dead…_

Mao froze, searching for the source of the thought.

_Where is that coming from? I don't see anybody here…_

Shakily, he stood to his feet, his neck aching from a stinging wound, and dropped the wrinkled coat he still wore to the ground. To his surprise, the garment seemed to dissolve out of existence, as if it had never been there. His feet appeared to be resting atop some kind of stone platform, smooth and flat. He walked carefully to the edge, looking out over the rim, and his stomach fluttered. _As above_, _so_ did the vast empty air fill the space _below_ the enormous disc.

_Impossible!_

_I guess I'm not even free of my Geass here... Wherever 'here' is. Pain still exists!  
_

Mao's eyes widened. _It's me! Those are own thoughts! I can actually hear myself think…after all this time. That must mean...there's absolutely no one else here…?_

He remained frozen as this thought sunk in. Finally standing up, he took notice of just how strong the strange wind really was, his faded denim hat lost to the air as his platinum strands blew to the side forcefully.

_How could she?_, Mao's mind wailed, flashing the image of his beloved holding the gun to his neck. _She said she loved me…_

_You don't need love!  
_

_What is that other voice? Who are you?_

_You'll never find me...  
_

He stared across the vast empty expanse, suddenly feeling a stifling solitude in this strange realm. All he was aware of was this dryness, the wind, and…silence. _How ironic that when I actually do find somewhere quiet, I feel uneasy… Is there even any life in this place? _The thinness of the air began to get to him, however, and he felt like fainting, still weak from his many injuries it seemed.

_Am I dead then? No, it can't be. Do I still have my Geass I wonder? This is like a dream.  
_

"Mao," he heard a familiar voice call out. He whirled around, his ears in disbelief. _But how? It can't be!_

Sure enough, C.C. was standing there, watching him. She was clothed in a white dress with a checkered trim, her arms and clavicles bared. Likewise she wore no stockings; instead her milky smooth legs stretched down to the floor unfettered. A soft smile curled at the corner of her lips, as if she were amused by something. It had been too long since he'd seen her smile, he thought to himself.

Mao opened his mouth to say her name, but he felt failure once more, and bit his lip in frustration. He didn't want her to hear him sounding like that so he simply kept quiet.

"Welcome to C's World," C.C. announced, taking a step closer.

Mao shook his head in confusion, his expression puzzled.

_But how is this possible?_

She cocked her head to the side, turning to stare at the smoldering expanse for just a moment. Mao held his breath, nervously waiting for her to speak, not sure if his senses were merely deceiving him. Finally, she turned her attention back toward him.

Every muscle in Mao's face conveyed the same thought in that moment. _How?_

"When you asked me to kill you, I agreed. But afterward, I realized something. I couldn't do it. And because of that I suddenly understood how it must have seemed when I asked you to do the same for me," C.C. explained. "I actually cried for a moment—I've waited so long to do that again. It was worth the wait though I guess. My love was real, as hard as it was to admit when you came back. I couldn't help it."

Mao strode forward, his heart aching. _I love you too! I love you too! Damn this! Why can't I say it! I have to! _His eyes narrowed as he clenched his fists defiantly, willing his mouth into the right shapes, determined to speak. _I love you…I love you…I love you…I love you…I love you! I love you! I love you! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! __**I LOVE YOU!** _The screaming in his head became so loud he forced himself to give up if just so he wouldn't drown out the precious words she was giving him right now.

"I should not have made that contract with you," C.C. continued, her voice just as dry as it had ever been, though it sounded melodic to his ears. "I see that now. But I won't leave you a victim of Geass any longer. When I realized you had just gone after Lelouch again, right after almost being killed," she related, patiently observing Mao's struggle. "I came for you as soon as I could. What I gave you outside of that chapel was merely an injection to put you out. Just long enough to fool them. Then I bore your body here to this place. I've come to save you."

Mao bit his lip, shaking his head in frustration as he made a fist.

Clasping his cheeks with both hands, C.C. brought his face down and leaned forward, meeting his lips in a deep kiss, much to his surprise and astonishment. She felt him flinch at the contact, becoming rigid and still in her embrace but she could feel him breathing her in reverently, savoring the taste of paradise.

Suddenly, however, locked in that embrace, his body felt strange. The sigil on her forehead began to glow like a firebrand and Mao could hear her voice in his head though she hadn't spoken.

_"Now, let the seal be broken..."_

His lips continued hungrily gripping hers, drawing breath from deep within her throat. They remained like this for several heartbeats before Mao pulled away just far enough that he could gaze deep into her golden eyes, the eyes that had captured his heart.

"I love you!" Mao shouted suddenly, his voice cutting through the air like a gunshot, breathing heavily as he felt relief wash over his body. "I love you too," he repeated breathlessly, running his hand over his throat. it was like a lock had fallen away. His voice grew strangely serious for a moment. "I don't blame you for the things that happened in my life after accepting Geass," Mao asserted, determined to get it all out in case he lost his voice again.

C.C.'s eyes widened in surprise, genuinely surprised by his words. "Y-You don't?" she stammered for a moment.

Mao shook his head, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "I knew you couldn't do it," he remarked, his voice almost cheerful though still a bit shaky, despite the circumstances. "I just knew it!"

"What?" C.C. asked. Now it was her turn to be confused.

"Well I figured that if you really loved me like I hoped you did, you wouldn't be able to kill me, just as I couldn't kill you," Mao began, clearly proud of his deduction, as a bout of triumphant, yet maniacal, laughter escaped his throat once more. "I was so happy when you appeared at that chapel, finally saying it after all that time. But then...when you put the gun against me... I was afraid. I thought… I thought…" his voice faltered, unable to finish the sentence. "At least I would be free from Geass."

"So then this...was all an elaborate plan to...convince me...that I really did love you?'" C.C. asked in disbelief.

"It was becoming harder and harder for me as time went on. I couldn't take it any longer—I wasn't even sure which thoughts were my own anymore. I almost killed myself, but I wasn't able to do it, having lost everything like that. I needed to know you really loved me, despite what had happened between us. Because if you didn't, I knew I couldn't bear living any longer. I still wanted to save you from your contract with Lelouch—I still wanted to be your dashing hero," Mao explained with some difficulty. "So, after I asked you to become my killer, I secretly set a trap for Lelouch. If I could destroy _him_, I thought it would end the only threat to you, so then at least you'd be safe and there would be nothing standing in our way. Some hero I turned out to be though, huh?" he finished, a tinge glumly.

"That's quite a plan though," C.C. mused. That was one thing he and Lelouch had in common.

"I had nothing to lose," Mao retorted, gently sliding his hands underneath her shimmering hair and drawing close to her body. He was hesitant though; unsure and afraid she would push him away again. "C.C…will you let me stay with you now?" he asked tentatively.

C.C. nodded as she slid her arms around his back, noting the slight difference in him. It was just a small thing, but before he would have undoubtedly demanded that she stay with _him_, but now he was begging just to stay with her. No longer just a child after all. "Of course, Mao," she replied, tightening her grip so that he leaned into her, letting his hands fall to her waist. "Everything's going to be alright now. That's why I brought you to this place. I'm going to keep _my_ promise now."

Suddenly Mao's shoulders began to wrack as tears streamed down his face and he sunk to his knees, pressing himself against her stomach. He didn't know why he was crying. Terror gripped him as a sickening fear that he would close his eyes and discover it was all just a dream overtook him. C.C. could feel his sobs reverberating up her body and into her throat and her grip tightened comfortingly. "C.C. you're real right? Please, tell me this is real. If I wake up from this dream, I'll die," Mao pleaded, clinging to the only thing he had ever truly wanted in his life.

"Of course, I am real," C.C. murmured soothingly, stooping down to press her cheek against his as if to prove it.

Raising himself to his knees, Mao began gently kissing her soft head.

_I know now  
Just quite how  
My life, my love  
Might still go on  
In your heart  
In your mind  
I'll stay with you  
For all of time_

But it wasn't long before a tinge of fear returned to cut through his bliss. "C.C., what about…the contract?" he asked tentatively. "Lelouch won...so…"

C.C. averted her gaze. "It's okay. It's…still there," she admitted. "Don't worry about it," she covered quickly.

"But I can't get my mind off of it. Please…," Mao protested softly, his voice falling to a whisper. "You have to live," he choked.

"Why?" C.C. asked, looking away towards the vast empty expanse.

Mao felt a shooting pain stab his heart. "You know why!" he retorted fiercely. "There's only one 'you'-and I need her! And she needs me. No one is born with a reason to live you know, a reason to want to be here. Everyone has to find their reason to live…maybe in a dream, or in an art, or…_in a person_. Even though you may lose it, even though the reason you find might be unclear, risky, and painful. I think that's why it's worth living for."

Mao took a breath and opened his mouth to speak again, but C.C. silenced him with another kiss, driving his thought away. "You know something, Mao? You talk too much," she quipped with a playful smile. "Just take it one moment at a time. Right now I'm here. And you're right there. If I'm your source of solace, then you can be mine as well in here," she offered. "I just can't promise that to you. I would be lying if I said that my unending life no longer burdens me. I've just lived too long. But it doesn't mean I have no love for you. And I didn't think I would be able to admit that much. So take comfort that _you won_ in the end."

Mao sighed, looking away as if he were trying to formulate a response.

"Mao," C.C. said softly, calling his attention back to her. As if it had ever left. "I have a gift for you."

A puzzled expression broke across Mao's features and he waited to see what she could mean. Suddenly, to his utter shocked delight, she pulled out a crude work of beaten stone with a familiar green sparkle—malachite!

Mao froze, staring transfixed at the ring that he had assumed was lost forever. But there it was, glinting in her delicate hands. "Where did you…?" Mao's voice trailed off.

"So you recognize it then," C.C. affirmed. "I found it when I went back to the park, though you had already been taken away. I wasn't completely sure it was yours until now. But if I had to guess, I'd say it was the present you made for our anniversary, right?"

Mao nodded. Something so trite sounded strange after all this time.

"I want _you_ to wear it from now on," C.C. related, taking his hand and sliding the craft down one of his long fingers. "I'm always here you know—now I can be here with you. You'll soon come to learn that this place reacts to your thoughts—so shape it any way you like, everything the world down there isn't. And you can always watch over from here as well."

Despite his unease, an excited grin spread across Mao's face. "It sounds lovely," he admitted, admiring the jewel now adorning his finger. "So…we're not going to return then?"

C.C. shuffled awkwardly, and Mao could tell that there was something she wasn't telling him. "Mao, the world is too much for you. Here, you can be happy and free. And safe. You need time to heal," she explained carefully.

"But I'm only happy with you. I never want to part again," Mao retorted, his arms clutching her back possessively, arching upward so that his hands held her shoulders, crushing her to his body.

C.C. looked up at him thoughtfully for a moment, swaying gently to the ethereal wind coursing through that place. Closing her eyes she leaned her head against his chest, her hair brushing his face. She decided not to interrupt the moment and so said nothing.

She was there and still, she was all he needed.

**To be concluded…**

* * *

**Author's Notes: First off, regarding the strange-looking gun that C.C. shoots Mao with in the previous chapter. I've decided it was merely an injection system (containing a chemical of some kind which made his body "die" for a short period), largely because there is no exit wound despite the fact it was fired at point blank range and also because its design looks so different from every other pistol used in **_**Code Geass**_**. Really though, there's the most important reason-because Mao's fate, as you will see in the coming chapter, is far more interesting to me than him simply dying.**

**You're probably also wondering how Mao is able to break Lelouch's Geass? The same way Lelouch did in the beginning of R2 and possibly Nunnally later—Code bearers appear to have the ability to undo Geass. Either that or through sheer force of will like Euphemia did when she suppressed her desire to obey and kill Suzaku before she died. If they can do it, so can Mao, right?  
**


	28. Regretting Mao: Epilogue

**Musical Recommendation: "The Rueful Tale of Donna Noble" by Murray Gold from the **_**Doctor Who Series 4 **_**Soundtrack, followed by "Deeply Fast" by Nakagawa Koutarou from the **_**Code Geass R2 Soundtrack **_**and finishing with "The Somewhere In Time Theme" by John Barry **

* * *

_**Regretting Mao**_

**(Epilogue)**

Mao's eyes fluttered open and he sat up groggily, pushing off of his elbows. "C.C.?" he called out loudly, searching for the emerald haired beauty. But he heard no response, only the moaning echoes of the raging alien winds.

Mao closed his eyes dreamily for a moment, savoring the lingering pleasure coursing through his body. "You were so wonderful," he mumbled contentedly.

Standing to his feet, he tilted his head to the side in wonder-making his way toward a curious structure of sorts that he could've sworn wasn't there but a moment ago. A kind of villa—stately but rather narrow.

As he entered, he was confronted by a long, vaulted room which seemed to stretch on forever, supported by the familiar smooth stone floor and towering columns, all beneath a canopy of emerald lights. "How strange," he mused. "Is this our new home, C.C.?" he asked playfully, stumbling about in search of her like a game of hide and seek.

As he passed through these surreal surroundings, he noticed several frames, ornate works of gold and brass filigree, hanging mid air in the spaces around him. There must have been thousands of them. Inside the frames, the pictures seemed to be…moving, as if they were windows to another world. "They are moving! …_C.C._?" he mumbled. And what was more, he recognized the person consistently displayed throughout—it _was_ C.C., her expression and garments changing with each scene. In some of them, she was even younger, a small dirty child in ragged clothes Mao had never seen, with wide amber eyes and a timid demeanor. In still others, a familiar phoenix sigil could be seen overtaking her iris. _But that means...! No, it makes sense._ _Geass!_

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "I can't believe I didn't realize it before…"

As he continued to peruse the gallery, he came upon more troubling frames—horrible, gruesome executions being played out in lurid detail before his eyes. C.C. was being beheaded, suffocated, burned at the stake, impaled, strangled, crushed, garroted, shot, stabbed…it went on and on. Mao looked away, searching for another to drive the disturbing images out of his mind. "C.C.!" he called out, more frantically, his voice echoing across the vast hall.

As if in reply, the frames rearranged, showing still other images—endless wandering through ruined cities and decaying battle fields, the world seemingly changing around her.

"These are my memories," he heard a voice call out from behind, stepping closer.

Mao turned around in relief. C.C. was standing there. Immediately, however, he had the uneasy feeling that something seemed..._different_ about her though. Her voice was low and dry—emotionless-nothing like it was just a little while ago. And she was wearing the same faded blue garments she had worn during their years together in the country.

"I wasn't sure where-C.C.?" Mao asked tentatively, his relief ebbing away and replaced by a dread he couldn't quite understand.

"Who are you?" C.C. demanded suddenly, her eyes unblinking as she searched his face.

Mao's felt his heart sink as his world spun. "What do you mean? It's Mao," he replied, feeling quite bizarre. "Where have we gone? Is this apart of C's World?"

"We?" C.C. repeated, stepping closer. "I told you, these are _my_ memories."

"Your _memories_? We're…inside your _mind_ right now?" Mao asked in disbelief.

C.C. nodded, sweeping her hand to the side to indicate the hanging frames. "As you can see, _I_ once had a Geass," she explained, noting the burning sigil shrouding his irises. "The Geass _I_ manifested was to make people love me because…deep inside my heart, all I wanted was to be truly loved by someone. My wish was granted-because of my Geass I was loved by anyone I desired. But in the end, it was too much," C.C. continued. "Love without limit became love without meaning. Its power eventually overwhelmed me, bringing everyone around me under my spell and I forgot what love was—I became restless, cold-hearted and withdrawn. Because my Geass couldn't work upon _her_, the woman who gave it to me became the only one I could believe in. But in the end she had just been pretending to be friends with me-I was a tool, a way for her to end her weary life."

Mao blinked, feeling his mouth run dry. "So…you were...just like me," he muttered, his eyes turned toward the ground. "Just like me. Of course. How awful…"

C.C. tilted her head to the side, patiently observing his conversation.

"C.C.!" Mao exclaimed suddenly as he often did when an idea suddenly came to his mind that he just _had _to tell her right now, gripping her shoulders and bringing his eyes back to hers as he suddenly realized something desperately important. "Your Geass made people love you. But you don't need Geass for that! I fell in love with you without it," he explained. "I've granted your true wish!"

"You did? You must be someone very important to me," C.C. replied thoughtfully. "But who? I don't see you in any of _these_ memories. So you must be from my future then. A real person."

Again, the frames rearranged, with some showing his own days with C.C. coming to the forefront. He stared expressionless at the images, which he realized now to be memories, hardly recognizing the young carefree boy he saw playing with her therein while she looked on with that familiar serene smile whose complexity ran the gamut of possible interpretations.

"I…I am," Mao stammered sadly, feeling tears well up in his eyes. "Why did you bring me here?" he demanded suddenly.

"The fact that you're here means I tried to save you from something," C.C. explained.

"Save me?" Mao echoed in disbelief. Suddenly, however, his eyes widened and he whirled around, frantically searching his surroundings.

"_The world is too much for you. Here, you can be happy and free. And safe. You need time to heal."_

"No, no, no, no…" Mao began repeating to himself, remembering her words. "No! This isn't right… none of this makes sense. She…she can't do this to me. Not now! C.C!" he shouted to no avail, his eyes suddenly darting up past the glowing canopy. "I should've known. The way she held me before—I couldn't understand it but it felt like she was saying goodbye… C.C. don't leave me here! This isn't you! It isn't fair! C.C. please…" he shouted into the air, his gaze spinning in circles.

The C.C. beside him tilted her head sideways in confusion. "Who are you looking for?" she asked.

Mao stared listlessly into her perfect face, his mouth turned to a frown. "How could she?" he muttered. But he knew how—she said she loved him. And he suddenly realized just how painful that fact could be. Out of concern for his wellbeing, she had put him inside her mind…and with herself for a companion no less. Or at least part of herself. She had only meant for him to be safe, happy, free. But if this was her mind…could she still hear him? Hear him even though she was _down there_.

"C.C. listen to me!" Mao shouted, turning his head around and staring into the skies above. "This isn't what I want! Don't leave me here. I want to be with _you_! _All _of you! Please… "

But it was no use. And eventually he realized that fact.

Eventually he would content himself as best he could with her memories and this strange manifestation of her personality. How much time would pass, he couldn't fathom—countless days bleeding together. He would spend all of them walking the lonely halls together with this C.C.—listening to her voice, holding her hand, embracing her. It was the only way to alleviate the longing he felt.

She appeared to regard all this affection with naught but curiosity, passively acquiescing. He showed her the memories of their time together to try and explain how much he meant to her, but she didn't seem able to understand love. It wasn't something to be found within her memories apparently. His headphones and visor had been cast aside, tucked away in case he ever found a way to return. He discovered he could use the gallery to create his own paintings, however, honing the skills that had fallen into disuse so long ago; painting meadows, sea shells, oceans, and portraits of C.C., of course. Slowly he could feel the deep scars and stains he had accumulated during his mad quest on Earth ebbing away. As he looked back, he couldn't have imagined what it would turn him into—things he would've though abhorrent suddenly became necessities. And in the end, he almost lost everything about him that she had found affection for in the first place.

So, beneath the burning skies overhead, Mao would peer through the veil of C's World and watch over C.C. on Earth below as she continued to, in her own willful way, aid Lelouch. He was becoming more than just another contract to her as the year went by, he had become a friend and she earnestly wanted him to succeed and achieve some happiness for himself and his sister. As Mao watched him and thought of Nunnally's words, though he had realized the wisdom in them too late, he even began to agree with her.

But yet he could not shake the dread out of his mind of what might happen as Lelouch lost control and the pressures upon him increased. He could see the young man taking the very path he had chosen-manipulating, exploiting, destroying—compromising little by little. But to such as them, it was worth it. It was love, perhaps even obsession. With the one person whose smile makes every derisive scowl, every gruesome wound, and every defeated enemy worth it. But when C.C. offered her life, would he prove his humanity in the end? Or would he crush his dreams to pieces?

It seemed Mao's sins had finally caught up with him—and what a punishment it was—and all he could do was watch and wait, forever tantalized. But also…_hope_. Whatever happened, he would never lose hope again.

* * *

**Endsong: "Heaven's Not Enough" by Steve Conte**

**Author's Note: The place that C.C. sent Mao to is, in case you weren't sure, the same gallery she later sends Lelouch to in R2, which she explains she sends people "that she tries to save from something" to. I think it actually makes a lot of sense, considering that she wanted Mao to wait for her and there's always a spirit guide version of C.C. there, making it handy to leave Mao with.**

**Author's Epilogue:**

**My dearest readers,**

**We have come to a crossroads. I had anticipated a relatively tidy ending; one where Mao somehow descends back to Earth during R2. Quick, indulgent and to the point. However, I still have a few ideas swirling around in my mind concerning activities Mao might undertake in the background of R2 (or even post R2), but I have no general narrative to sequence them in mind. Obviously until I have some idea of where such a story would go, I cannot publish it. So I hope you have enjoyed this story and appreciated the admittedly bittersweet ending.**

**But remember, there may be a time in the future when I continue this story. If such a time comes, I will need you're support once more.**

**Thank you,**

**The Kleptographer**

**Special acknowledgments:**

_**Alicekinsno1**_

**For her heartwarming Mao stories, characterization advice, and allowing me to bounce ideas concerning style and presentation off of her. Also for creating this story's own page on TV Tropes which continues to be expanded by other readers even now!**

_**Silencian**_

**For writing some of the most hilarious reviews I have ever read! Seriously, you are hysterical and I immensely enjoyed the banter and discussions that cropped up. Oh and great taste in music as well!**

_**HerLittleDoll.**_

**For writing some of the most encouraging reviews I have ever read! They were such a relief and genuinely inspired me to continue and strive to increase the quality more and more. **

_**TwilitEye**_

**For working the effort I put into this story into his own AU, expanding its presence in **_**Code Geass **_**fanon that much more. It's an honor.**

**And finally,**

_**Candelabra**_

**I don't know if you've read this story (you've never left a review if you have). But your story "Better, Better" was the first fanfic about Mao I EVER read and I found it so beautiful and comforting.**

**And, of course,**

**Everyone who read this story, left a review, put it on story alert, added it to their favorites page, analyzed it for tropes, and linked it on other sites. Your encouraging support kept this story going.**


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